


Playing To Win

by jacaranda_bloom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Big Brother TV Series AU, Bottom Louis, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Hot Tub Sex, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Secret Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:49:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21616354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacaranda_bloom/pseuds/jacaranda_bloom
Summary: Big Brother UK alumni Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are selected for the UK vs Australia All Stars series with a massive one million dollar prize in the offing. They’re both fit and smart and would make a great alliance... if only they can stop their feelings from getting in the way.OR the one where Louis really doesn’t want to like Harry, Harry is struggling to quell his growing fondness for Louis, but sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t fight fate.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 86
Kudos: 501
Collections: HL TV SHOW FIC FEST 2019





	1. Let The Games Begin

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome to my Big Brother AU! This one has certainly been a labour of love so I need to give a massive shoutout to Sonja, the mod for this fest, for allowing me take the time I needed when life got in the way.
> 
> Commissioned artwork created by the incredibly talented [ kilachuart.](https://kilachuart.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> To my brilliant and encouraging cheerleaders/beta’s [ Rebecca ](https://runaway-train-works.tumblr.com/), [ Nicola ](https://missytearex.tumblr.com/) and [ Emma ](https://justsomelarryfics.tumblr.com/) \- you’re all amazing and I love you very much.
> 
> Don’t forget to check out the other works from this fest - they’re all brilliant!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [ jacaranda-bloom ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/) and if you’d like to reblog my [ Tumblr fic post ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/post/189389120123/playing-to-win-by-jacaranda-bloom-written-for-the) that would be lovely!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome - they make me so happy and I appreciate them greatly.

The black stretch Hummer takes a long sweeping turn onto the driveway of the back lot, blinding lights and rows of screaming fans coming into view as the adrenaline courses through Louis’ veins. He feels completely ridiculous riding in this monstrosity, so ostentatious with its internal strip lighting, mini bar, and disco ball that he wants to cringe and hide under his seat, but this is Big Brother and everything is over the top.

The glitz and glamour aspect is amped up to the max with everything bigger and brighter and more in-your-face than the UK version. When Louis had come in third place on last year’s show back home, he never imagined he’d be doing this again, and certainly not in Australia of all places. But when the production team had called and offered him a slot on the UK vs Australia All Stars series and another chance at a million-dollar prize, he couldn’t refuse.

The Hummer comes to a stop at a red carpet laid over the stairs that lead up to the entrance and Louis peers outside through the heavily tinted windows. There are huge, golden double-doors at the top with a familiar-looking pair of presenters standing in front of them, microphones in their hands. On the left is Jared who has been the host of the UK franchise for the last few years and standing next to him is the immediately recognizable host of the Australian franchise, Katrina. They’re both getting their makeup reapplied, indicating that they’ve been here for a while, so he assumes he’s not the first housemate to enter tonight.

A production assistant comes toward the vehicle and taps on the window and Louis readies himself to face the onslaught.

He watches as the hair and makeup people scurry away and the presenters plaster on their best fake smiles, whitened teeth shining like they’re under a black light.

He hears them recite a brief bio for him and then announce his name, steeling himself as the door opens and he steps out, suitcase in hand. The crowd roars as he turns and waves with a beaming smile and flashes go off all around, the unmistakable theme music booming from the speakers. A sea of phones looks back at him, which must mean that this is being broadcast live. That’s new, and brave, he muses, the UK series episodes are always pre-recorded, accept for the finale. 

Louis walks up the steps and sets his bag down, standing in front of the presenters.

“Welcome, Louis!” Katrina shouts over the din. “How are you feeling?”

“Excited! Nervous? So happy to be at the Big Brother UK vs Australia All Stars and in this  _ amazing _ country!” Louis shouts back, pumping his fist in the air and laying it on thick for the fans and cameras. He’s done this before and he knows how to suck up and win people over. His game started the minute he stepped out of the car and won’t stop until he’s evicted or wins this damn thing.

He blows kisses to a few randoms in the front row and cocks his hip, hand resting on his waist as he flicks his fringe in a practised move.

“Great to have you here, Louis,” Jared says. “You ready to do this all over again and go away with the win?”

“Absolutely. Bring it on!” Louis yells and raises his hands above his head, fists clenched and letting his shirt ride up to give the crowd a taste of what they’ll be watching over the next six weeks. Or at least he hopes it’ll be six weeks, all going well. All Stars is a shorter format than a newbie series, and he’s expecting a lot more twists and turns as well as tougher game-play from the experienced competitors.

“Alright, well it’s time to head into the house and meet your challengers,” Katrina says and up close Louis can see the layers of caked-on makeup ready to slide off her face in the heat of the Queensland sun and harsh lights. “Through those doors are some familiar faces and a set up like we’ve never seen before… bigger and better than any other series.”

“Good luck, Louis, and remember, Big Brother is always watching,” Jared says ominously as the doors swing open and blackness awaits.

Louis grabs the handle of his suitcase and strides through, turning to give a final wave to the crowd as the doors close and shut him off from the outside world.

And so it begins.

He’s immediately set upon by two technicians.

“Hi Louis, nice to meet you, I’m Gabe. Just gonna mic you up, mate,” Gabe says in a thick Australian accent. “Lift up,” he says pointing to the hem of Louis’ shirt. 

“Nice to meet you, mate,” Louis says as he crosses his arms and pulls the shirt up to his neck. Memories start flooding back as Gabe goes to work attaching his mic pack; the constant struggles to keep the packs in place, the annoying tape that sticks to his skin, remembering to take them off before he goes to the bathroom or jumps in the hot tub. He wonders whether they’ll have a pool this time, it’s Australia after all. He hopes so. Could be nice to work on his tan while he’s here, for however long that might be.

Gabe finishes securing the pack and walks off hurriedly down a dark corridor, motioning for Louis to follow. The other technician follows behind, loaded with a portable sound kit strung around his neck and enormous headphones on his head, one on his ear and one askew on his cheek. “Louis, I’m Dave, I’m just gonna check your levels. Can you give me a test?” 

“Hi Dave,” Louis says as they make their way through the maze of darkened hallways. “Nice to meet you too. I like long walks on the beach, sipping kale cocktails at sunset, recycling is my passion, aliens are real, and my guilty pleasure is watching paint dry.”

“I like you already,” Dave says with a chuckle as they round a corner and a brightly lit tunnel comes into view. Louis sees a cameraman and a sound guy already inside and waiting for Louis to make his entrance into the house. “Alright, you’re good to go. You know the drill, don’t take it off, make sure it’s on at all times, let us know if there’s anything wrong with it…”

“Yup! All good, thanks, Dave.”

“It’s so much easier when they’ve done this before,” Gabe says to Dave as if Louis isn’t even there. He’s used to this aspect of the Big Brother experience, of course - being talked about, not talked to - but it still grates a bit on him.

He’s genuinely excited to get into the house and see where he’s going to be living for the next however-many-weeks and, more importantly, who he’s going to be living with. He’s done his research and knows most of the previous contestants by heart as well as a shortlist of thirty or so he thinks are likely candidates for the series. He’s studied their gameplay and weaknesses and how best to manipulate them. The internet is a wonderful source of information and he’s been stalking his hit list’s socials for a month now, learning as much as he can about what makes them tick. Anyone who’s smart would’ve been doing the same to him so he’s been crafting a bit of an altered image for himself too; a mild injury to his knee, breakups with two short-term flings, anything to have people assuming things about him. 

Making it to the final three had allowed him to maximize his on-air exposure for the full ten weeks which was great, but coming in third meant he’d missed out on a lot of the supported promo that came after the show. He’d done a few guest spots on TV as well as some panel-style game shows; his particular brand of humour lending itself more readily to the free-flowing, late-night formats, but there was very little cash in it.

He’d been fortunate to win a one-off DJing gig at a local Manchester radio station as part of one of the challenges while he was in the House, which had then turned into a summer slot on their Indie Show for a couple of months. While he’d done his best to harness his fame, fleeting as this type tends to be, he just couldn’t manage to translate it into anything permanent and soon had to return to his graphic design work, picking up a new role at a firm in the city. He’s grateful to have had that to fall back on, but when the call came, he’d resigned as soon as the ink was dry on his Big Brother contract.

Gabe guides him toward the entrance of the tunnel, talking into his headset. “Yeah, we're good to go.”

Louis stands ready, the cameraman and sound guy backing into the tunnel and pausing halfway down.

“Alright, Louis,” Gabe says, a hand resting low on his back. “You need to walk down the tunnel slowly, let the guys set the pace, then they’ll stop and you keep on going into the house, okay?”

“Got it, thanks very much, Gabe.” Louis knows he needs to keep these guys on side, they’re going to be a big part of his life while he’s in the house and it’s imperative that they don’t think he’s a dickhead.

“Good luck, mate,” Gabe says and urges him forward.

Louis walks down the tunnel, taking his cues as instructed. The lights are blinding on all sides and he feels like he’s in some kind of X-ray machin;, well, he kind of is, he thinks and smirks to himself. The doors at the end swing open and the guys peel off to one side as Louis takes the last few paces and then steps out into the yard.

His eyes start to adjust and he takes in his surroundings. It’s fucking huge, is the first thing that hits him. Whereas the UK house was cramped and had only a small amount of outdoor space, this place is on a whole other level. The massive yard has high walls, as is to be expected to prevent prying eyes, both looking in, and looking out, and a huge pool in the centre, equipped with a waterfall and slide at one end, a bridge over the middle and a sectioned off spa at the other. There’s an outdoor gym, half undercover, an open-air yoga room and what looks to be a treehouse on one side. The accommodation wraps itself around the other three sides, a kitchen and dining area in one wing, an expansive living area in the next, and a blacked-out area in the other which he suspects houses the bedrooms and shower room.

He’s startled from his observations by a high-pitched squeal and he turns to see three housemates come running out of the living room wing toward him. Two women and one guy bound over the fake grass and he pastes on a welcoming smile. He immediately recognizes the two girls as being from the UK series before him. Bec and Alyssa had come in second and third respectively. They’d hooked up in the house and had a nasty breakup after the show had wrapped so that’ll make for an interesting dynamic. The guy, Blake, is from the last Australian series and had placed fourth. He was an awesome competitor and was heavily tipped to take out the win before he had to leave due to an urgent family situation. When Louis was doing his research he’d discovered that Blake’s sister, Amelia, had been in a scuba diving accident and he’d left to assist in her recovery. She’s doing well now and Louis has enjoyed getting to know Blake through his socials. He respects his decision to leave and thinks he seems like a good guy, smart and athletic, and someone that Louis could easily befriend, but he’s also going to be an audience favourite and fresh in people's minds, so he’ll have to manage that carefully; he doesn’t want to end up as anyone’s side-kick.

“Hiiiiii…,” Louis says and immediately goes in for a hug with Alyssa, then Bec.

“Oh my god, I loved you on the show,” Bec says, pulling away, eyes sparkling. “I was a huge fan!”

“Oh wow, me too! Bec, right?” Louis plays along. She nods eagerly and he turns to Alyssa. “And you’re Alyssa?”

“Mhmmm… I was such a big fan too, you totally should’ve won.”

Louis leans in. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, I think I should’ve won too,” he stage whispers, earning him a sweet giggle.

“Great to meet you, Lewis, yeah?” Blake says, all deep voice and macho stance, purposefully getting his name wrong in a clear attempt to go for the alpha dog position. Well, he can have at it. Kind of a dick move to do it so soon, maybe they won’t be friends after all.

“Good to meet you too, Blake,” Louis says and pulls him in for a bro handshake against their chests and one-armed hug complete with back slaps. “I was so happy to see how well your sister is doing. She’s a fighter.” Louis goes straight there, putting Blake on the back foot if his body language is anything to go by. 

Louis lets Blake pull out of the hug first and he catches both girls with fond expressions. Point to Louis.

“Oh! Yeah, thanks, man, she’s aces,” Blake says and then blanks as if he’s trying to place Louis and come up with some sort of conversational response, which he doesn’t. Interesting. He’s clearly not done anywhere near as much research as Louis and has no conversational comeback. He’s a good foot taller than Louis, but physical height is no match for him when it comes to presence, it never has been. Blake’s got sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, the cliched Aussie surfer dude look might be a bit cliched, but it works for him. He’s got his shirt off already, and he’s ripped, but it also allows Louis to immediately put him in the show-pony category. From his investigations, he’d found that Blake had done quite well after his stint on the show, but the Australian C-grade celebrity circuit has greater longevity than in the UK and his personal story with his sister had extended his shelf-life somewhat, too. Seems like he’s riding high on that still, but to Louis, that just means he’s balancing precariously on a pedestal and will be easy pickings. 

“So…” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “Who’s up for giving me a tour?” 

The girls both squeal again and eagerly guide him off toward the living area. They take turns gushing about the accommodations and talking over the top of one another, both vying for his attention. Bec is a personal trainer, around five foot nothing, with jet black shoulder-length hair and tallon-like nails painted to match her red, strapless mini-dress. Alyssa is a spokesmodel for a high-end food company and has short-cropped platinum blonde hair. She’s absolutely rocking a black all-in-one pants suit with a crystal-encrusted halter neck. They’d been nicknamed Class and Arse in the UK series, which was completely crass and not something Louis would ever condone or repeat, but the audience sees what they want to see, or rather, what the producers want them to see.

The girls take him into the bedroom, and he counts five queen size beds, so that presumably means ten contestants, which is… He does a quick mental calculation in his head, ten people, six weeks, three left for the final week, that means more than one week with a multiple eviction and it also doesn’t account for intruders or anything else the producers throw at them. This is going to be interesting.

The bedroom is spacious and garishly decorated, the gold theme carrying through with splashes of red and purple. Bec and Alyssa have claimed the beds on either end of the room, which makes Louis grin internally at how they’ve picked ones as far away from each other as physically possible. Blake has taken the one in the middle, because of course he has, positioning himself in the centre of the action. Louis has a plan, he always has a plan. He’s going to wait and see what the remaining contestants do and then bunk in with whoever he thinks will make for a strong partner in the initial stages where strength will be important in the challenges. Either that or he’ll select someone who he gels well with from a strategic perspective.

He wheels his suitcase over to the wall opposite the beds and sets it down without making a claim on any of the beds. As if perfectly choreographed, a siren sounds indicating someone new has just entered the house which is the perfect distraction for them all to head back out to the yard.

The girls squeal and take off at a run, Louis jogging behind, not wanting to be left with Blake and giving him no opportunity to ask which bed Louis will take. Perfect.

As he comes out through the living room he sees the new housemate looking around wide-eyed in the yard. The girls are upon her in an instant. It’s Hetty from the first Australian season eleven years ago. She’d won the series and while Louis had done his due diligence, he’d only given her a cursory investigation, never imagining that they’d delve that far back into the archives for the All Stars. He recalls she’d done quite well after the show, the novelty factor giving her a big boost and she took over hosting a long-running morning show until it was recently cancelled. She’s more of a celebrity in her own right than as a result of the show now, which makes it even more curious that she’s been selected. Hetty’s got a good ten years on the rest of them, mid to late thirties and a couple of kids if he remembers correctly. The time that’s passed since being in this environment may work against her but she’s been in the entertainment industry and anchoring chat shows for nearly ten years which will stand her in good stead when it comes to interacting with the other contestants. He’ll need to keep a close eye on her.

They all welcome her with hugs and excited chatter and the girls once again act as tour guides. They wander past the Diary Room and check out the kitchen and shower facilities. The spec is surprisingly high for the entire fit-out and Louis thinks he’s really going to enjoy his time here. 

Hetty picks the unclaimed bed between Bec and Blake and Louis decides he definitely doesn’t want to share with her. She’s incredibly fake and doesn’t have the warmest of personalities and he mentally lays early money on her being one of the first to be evicted, so he wants to give her a wide berth.

Next into the house is Grant, another Aussie, this time from the year before Blake. So they’re now expecting two more housemates from the UK and two more from Australia. Grant is in his fifties and a builder by trade. He’d done well, coming in second place, but was pipped at the post by a vapid, wannabe Instagram influencer. Louis likes him immediately, he’s got an easy way about him and he’d managed to glide through his series making friends with everyone, being a shoulder to cry on when required, and generally being an all-round good guy.

They’re sitting in the kitchen as Hetty potters around getting herself a tea, having not offered to make one for anyone else, and the girls are trying to wrangle the blender to make the rest of them cocktails. Louis is helpfully chopping up some fresh fruit and chatting to the girls and Grant is stuck with Blake, who is talking strategy for the game like he’s holding court. Grant is doing his best to look interested but it’s clear he would rather be anywhere else. At this rate, Blake is vying for the title of most likely to be evicted first because no one in their right mind talks strategy within hours of entering the house. Grant downs his beer and excuses himself, smart man, and Blake heads over to Hetty to ruin yet another relationship in record time.

“Hey, mate,” Grant says as he sidles up beside Louis, fresh beer clutched in his hand.

Louis raises his chin up in greeting, hands busy with chopping the strawberries. “How’s it going?”

“That Blake is an interesting character… mind if I hang with you for a bit?”

Louis chuckles. “Yeah, sure.”

“Ah, shiiiit!” Alyssa exclaims and Louis turns to see her jumping out of the way of the cocktail mixture which is dripping onto the floor, the blender having been upended on the bench.

“Looks like those cocktails might be a ways away. Want me to get you a beer?” Grant says with a smirk.

“Thanks, man, that’d be awesome.”

Grant returns with an opened beer and sets it down in front of Louis as the siren goes off once more. “Ahhhh excellent. Fresh meat,” Grant says with an evil raise of his eyebrows and Louis matches his expression with a tilt of his head. He wipes his hands on a towel, picks up his beer, and they head out into the yard.

Louis walks out into the yard and his steps falter. He can’t believe what he’s seeing, but there he is, large as life, wheeling his hot-pink suitcase into the yard and looking around in wide-eyed awe.

Harry fucking Styles. 

He really should have guessed that Harry would be picked for the All Stars series, but he’d desperately hoped he wouldn't be here. Harry had won the season two years before Louis’ and was an instant hit both in, and out of the house. Everyone loved him and so did the cameras.

Everyone, that is, except Louis. 

Louis had definitely been in the minority in his disdain for the man; too big and bold and sweet, lips too luscious, and heart too open. There’s no way it wasn’t an act. No one is that lovely all the time.

He’s the first to give kudos where kudos is due, however. Harry had done well for himself, winning the £100,000 prize and securing himself a spot on the celebrity roundabout. He’d done some fill-in hosting gigs on radio shows, the deep timbre of his voice being the perfect late-night mix of sultry and endearing, and had become a fixture at BBC Radio 1 after befriending Nick Grimshaw and Greg James, doing roving-reporter style spots at music festivals and the like. These had all been side pieces though as Little Mr Pretending-To-Be-Perfect was finishing up a law degree, because of course he was.

Louis wasn’t fooled though. Harry had played the game from the second he’d set foot in the house. He’d artfully avoided the slippery-slope of coupling up, managing to flirt his way through the ten weeks with pretty much everyone in the house; always enough to gain their affections but never so far as to alienate anyone. Louis had seen his competitiveness in the challenges too, so strong and fierce and smart, bowling people over as though it was a brand new revelation every time he wiped the floor with them.

It didn’t hurt that he was fucking gorgeous either. Long legs that went  _ all _ the way down to the ground, muscled arms and torso, but not freakishly so, preferring yoga and boxing to lifting weights all day, never prancing and posing, always effortlessly just Harry.

He’d managed to wrap the other housemates around his little finger with his slow drawl and cherubic features, and Louis had watched as he picked them off, one by one, until they practically handed the win to him on a platter. He’d acted so shocked at the finale, like he didn’t know full-well he had it in the bag, and then proceeded to pledge a chunk of his prize money to charity. Louis acknowledges that perhaps that particular aspect wasn’t for show, and Harry did follow through on his promised donations, actually selecting one of the charities that Louis would donate to if he won. Whatever. He still despises him.

At least now Louis knows who his main competition is going to be. He straightens his shoulders, plasters on his most welcoming smile, and walks toward his nemesis. Let the games begin.


	2. Full House

The fuzzy spots dissipate from Harry’s eyes as he blinks furiously, trying to focus on his surroundings. The sheer size of the yard is the first thing that he becomes aware of. Fake grass, high walls, light spilling out from the various buildings, and a massive, glorious pool in the middle. He’d very much like to jump straight in, fully clothed, but suspects that might send a strange message to his new housemates, and get him offside with the production guys who just finished miking him up. Best not, he resolves.

His attention is drawn to two women squealing as they come running across the grass from what looks like the kitchen area, bright smiles on their faces, arms out, already making grabby-hands for him. Right. Show time.

“Oh my god! Is that Bec and Alyssa I spy?” Harry asks as he drops the handle of his suitcase just in time to catch Alyssa as she launches herself into his waiting arms. “Oomph… well hello to you too.” He spins her around and then throws her over his shoulder, shrieking in delight as Bec plasters herself to his side, laying a wet, sloppy kiss on his neck. 

“I can’t believe you’re  _ here _ !” Bec shouts into his ear and Harry immediately realises these two are going to be a handful.

“I am! So good to see you both,” Harry lies as Bec jumps up and down on the spot and Alyssa slaps him on the arse, a tad on the wrong side of playful. He’d watched their season and cringed as he’d had to provide commentary on the happenings in the house for a weekly guest spot on Nick’s Radio 1 Breakfast Show. The girls were alright, but their developing relationship had been a little painful to observe, particularly when they were both keen to throw each other under the bus at every opportunity, spilling their guts in the Diary Room on an all too frequent basis. 

Harry’s not a fan of disingenuous people, especially when it comes to matters of the heart but it was clear that these two were after their fifteen minutes of fame any way they could get it. It came as no surprise when they broke up shortly after the finale. He muses that perhaps he’s not that disappointed to see them after all; they’ll be easy pickings when it comes time to start positioning himself and working the nomination game. Harry might be a nice guy, but he’s got his eyes firmly on the million-dollar prize and nothing, and no one, is going to distract him from that.

“Hi, mate,” an Aussie accent comes from beside him and he turns to find a weathered-looking man in his fifties, perhaps, holding a beer in one hand, the other outstretched for Harry to take.

He extracts himself from Bec’s clutches and shakes the offered hand. “Hey, m’Harry.”

“Grant. Welcome to the lunatic asylum,” Grant says with a friendly smile but Harry notes his lack of political correctness immediately. It could be an age thing, or just a not-giving-a-shit thing, either way, Harry decides to give him a pass, for now, and tamps down his desire to launch into a spiel about the realities and struggles of mental illness.

“Aye up, Harry,” a voice comes from behind Grant and Harry freezes. He’d know that high, raspy tone anywhere. The man steps out from behind Grant and Harry very nearly swallows his tongue.

“Louis...” Harry says as calmly as possible and his eyes land on the man himself. All tanned skin and blue eyes and wispy, soft fringe.  _ Fuck _ he groans internally. Of all the contestants he’d hoped wouldn’t be here, Louis Tomlinson was at the top of his list. Smart and sassy, kind and genuine, and hot as all fuck. All of that and he was one of the best game players Harry has ever seen. He was totally robbed of his well-deserved victory, the third-place ranking not reflective of how brilliantly he’d played.

“The one and only,” Louis says with a grin and then smirks, nodding at Alyssa’s arse. “Got your, uhm… hands full already I see,” Harry rolls his eyes, letting Alyssa slide off his shoulder and drop gently to the ground. 

“Nice to see you, Louis,” Harry says and reaches out, shaking Louis’ hand firmly, feeling his grip tighten in response and a wry, calculating smile appear on his face as they size each other up.

Nick had taken great pleasure in teasing him about Louis when he’d had to report on Louis’ season, maintaining that Harry’s dislike for him was doth protesting perhaps too much. At least he hadn’t done it live on air, small mercies and all that. Harry had vehemently countered that Louis wasn’t even his type, at  _ all _ . Physically he’s always been attracted to guys who were bigger and broader, able to give as good as he gave, and from a personality perspective, he’d prefer someone who wasn’t quite so manipulative and fake. Harry had easily seen through all of Louis’ tricks and maneuvers on the show, and whilst he could respect him for them in context, it’s not the sort of person he’d ever want to get involved with. Nick had thankfully begged off when it was clear he wasn’t getting a rise out of him and Harry had been thankful for the reprieve.

Harry lets his gaze linger for a moment too long on Louis’ tattooed arms as he brings his beer bottle up to his lips and hears him chuckle smugly. Harry’s always been a sucker for ink but he isn’t attracted to the rest of him, he’s really not, and hates that he might’ve given Louis that impression. He rolls his eyes again and he really needs to stop doing that and get his shit together.

He’s saved by the arrival of two more housemates who introduce themselves as Blake and Hetty, both Aussies. He dislikes Blake instantly, all puffed-up bravado and poorly masked insecurities. Hetty is like a cold, wet fish and seems more interested in her cup of tea than anything Harry, or anyone else, has to say.

They only make it as far as the living room before the siren sounds and a new housemate wanders inside the lion's den.

Dylan is another Aussie, late-twenties and a self-professed tech geek. He has the outfit to match with thick, dark-rimmed glasses, a paisley collarless shirt done up to his Adam’s apple, and light blue jean shorts. Harry likes him right away. He smart and funny, without needing to be the centre of attention, and seems to size everyone up quickly, landing on the same conclusions as Harry.

They make it to the kitchen this time, Harry and Dylan getting beers and most of the others refreshing their drinks while Bec and Alyssa appear to have given up on their earlier attempt to make cocktails and have poured themselves large concoctions that they’ll surely regret.

The next, and Harry gathers, last Aussie housemate, based on the sleeping situation the others had alluded to, is Cara. A city girl with a heart of gold. She’s bubbly and friendly and listens intently as others speak. Tall, with shoulder-length red hair and green eyes that are oddly soothing, freckled cheeks and a genuine smile. Being in her early-twenties, Harry is pleasantly surprised that she’s not a stereotypical Instagram influencer-type, instead, she seems down-to-earth and someone Harry could easily spend a lot of time with. 

The final housemate is one Harry knows well. Frieda, the second place getter from the UK season before Harry’s, is in her early sixties and an intensive care nurse. He had met her while skirting the edges of the celebrity circuit when he’d returned to the real world. She’s feisty in a jovial kind of way. Brash and strong and fiercely loyal. She loves her job and her family and Harry always enjoyed spending time with her when their paths crossed. A short stocky build, with white hair, cropped in a longish buzz-cut which she had proudly told him she maintained herself.  _ No time for hairdressers in my busy life _ , she’d said. Her comfortable clothing and sensible shoes pretty much sum up her attitude to life in general.

So now they’re all here, the Aussies - Blake, Hetty, Grant, Cara, and Dylan - and the English - Bec, Alyssa, Frieda, Louis, and Harry. It’s a motley crew and it’s going to make for a very interesting time. But looking around at them all, Harry is quietly confident they’re going to be no match for him, well, perhaps with one exception…

The source of his irritation wafts past on his way to the fridge to retrieve another beer as Harry stands at the island bench catching up with Frieda. She’s talking about her grandkids, two more having been added to the ever-growing brood back home in Manchester since they last spoke.

“Beer, Haz?” Louis asks from inside the fridge and, okay then, apparently they’re going for nicknames already. Smart move. Damn it. Harry should’ve been out in front of that.

“Sure, Lou, that'd be great, thanks.” Two can play at this game but the smirk he can see as the fridge light washes over Louis’ face makes him feel like he’s just played right into his hands. Damnit. 

Louis retrieves the beers and twists off the caps, chucking them in the recycling bin and setting one down in front of Harry, hip-checking him on the way past. It’s such a move and coupled with the fact that he didn’t do the wankerish sliding-the-bottle-along-the-benchtop thing just makes Harry even more wary. Frieda gives Harry a raised eyebrow - she doesn't miss a trick - and Harry huffs out a laugh.

A booming voice comes over the speaker system, one which will become very familiar over the next six weeks. “ _ This... is Big Brother. All housemates to the living room. _ ”

Bec and Alyssa squeal in delight and Harry assumes that’s something he’s going to have to get used to as well, seemingly their default response to most situations. The others follow behind them, and Harry is excited to get things moving. As is the norm, they had been given basically no information about what would happen once they were inside the house and he’s itching to find out so he can set a plan in place.

They all pile onto the large wraparound couch in front of the wall-mounted TV as the huge Big Brother eye comes on screen. He hears the screams of the crowd in the studio even before Jared and Katrina come into view.

“Hiiiii housemates!” The hosts say unison, huge smiles on their faces. Katrina takes the lead. “So how are we all settling in?”

A chorus of replies goes up around the room, accompanied by waves and fist pumps and raised drinks.

“I see we’ve already found the booze!” Jared adds and the crowd goes wild as the camera pans around the excited audience. “I just hope you’ve all been taking it slow, you’ve got a big night ahead of you,” he says with an irritatingly knowing smile. Harry dislikes him immensely. He couldn’t stand him during his own season and developed an even deeper contempt for the man once he was out and on the circuit. He’s vapid and not very bright and so full of himself Harry wonders how he manages to function in real life.

Katrina takes over, reading off the teleprompter so obviously it’s a little embarrassing. “On the wall in front of you is a hatch. Bec, could you go and retrieve the box that’s inside, please, and set it on the coffee table?”

Bec jumps up and Harry sits back and sinks into the plush cushions, crossing his ankle over his knee. Right. Okay then, they’re kicking this off early, Harry notes to himself as Bec follows Katrina’s instructions and leaps back into her seat. The glittery silver box has a hand sized hole on the top with black material around the rim, so they can’t see what’s inside. 

“Inside this box are the names of five housemates,” Jared says. “We’ll call out four names and each one needs to come up in turn and select one slip of paper from the box, reading out the name they’ve chosen. The fifth pair will be the two housemates leftover. The person you are paired with is someone you will be getting to know very,  _ very _ well over the next twenty-four hours or… well… however long you can last.”

Harry starts running the possibilities in his head. The obvious scenario is that this will be his allotted bed-mate, but he doubts it will be that easy. It could be a challenge buddy, or someone he has to do chores with, the options are endless.

“Alright,” Katrina says with far too much glee in her voice. “Grant, you’re up first.”

Grant gets up and goes over to the box, facing the screen and shoving his hand inside, retrieving a small piece of paper. He unfolds it and holds it up for the camera.

“Oooohhhh Dylan! Nice. Okay, Dylan and Grant go and stand over there,” Katrina points off to the side next to the screen. Dylan joins Grant and they look happy, as they should, they’re a good pairing and should have a pretty easy time of it. “Alyssa, you’re up next!” 

Alyssa does a little dance on her way over and makes a show of reaching into the box slowly, milking the suspense. When she pulls out the name her body language changes entirely and Harry instantly knows she’s selected Bec. It’s really quite funny and he chuckles to himself. Bec looks similarly unimpressed but goes to stand with Alyssa, fake smile plastered on her face.

Cara goes next and selects Blake. Poor girl. That’s not going to be an enjoyable experience. Harry glances over at the remaining housemates on the couch and it hits him that there’s only two possible pairs left. He has a fifty-fifty chance of being teamed up with Louis and his stomach flips. He wanted distance from the man, time to get his game plan in order, not be thrust together on the first night for whatever evil challenge the producers have in store.

“Hetty, your turn,” Katrina says and Harry suddenly feels sweat prickling at his temples. Could fate be cruel so soon?

When Hetty pulls the name out of the box, Jared’s voice seems far away and too close at the same time, the word sounding like it’s being spoken underwater, slow and muffled. “Frieda.”

Harry schools his expression as best he can and looks over to the other end of the couch where Louis is sitting, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. Damn it.

Fuck. Game face, Harry chastises himself. He winks and gives Louis a cheeky tilt of his head. He can do this. Whatever  _ this _ is. 

“And so that means our last pairing is… Harry and Louis!” Katrina bellows. Or maybe she doesn’t, but it feels like it.

Harry and Louis get up and join the others at the end of the line, nodding to each other as they take their places. The audience goes wild as the camera pans across the sea of hysterical fans, screaming and jumping, flinging balloons and streamers in the air.

“Alright. Everyone back to the couch in your pairs. Bec,” Katrina says. “If you’d like to do the honours once again, you’ll find another box in the hatch.”

Bec goes over, slightly less enthused than last time and takes the new box out. This time it’s just a plain black box with a lid, seemingly heavier than the last one. She sits down next to Alyssa at the other end of the couch and sets the box in her lap. 

Jared smiles at them, larger than life on the screen, a maniacal expression on his face which doesn’t bode well. “Take off the lid,” he instructs and the confused expression that glides across Bec’s face doesn’t fill Harry with much joy. “Inside there are sets of leather cuffs in five different colours. Take one set per pair and pass the box along.”

And oh… Ohhhhh… Harry’s brain kicks into gear presumably at the same time as Louis’ and he tenses beside him. Finally, a chink in his armour which makes Harry feel a little better.

Each pair retrieves the required items and sits nervously. Harry and Louis are the last to get theirs, the black ones, and Louis holds them tightly as Harry sets the box on the floor. Katrina and Jared and giggling on the screen which honestly, Harry could do without. 

Harry eyes them as Louis rolls them over in his delicate fingers. They’re literally wrist and ankle bondage cuffs and Harry grins when he remembers that he actually has a very similar set at home, tucked away in his walk-in closet, although he thinks the chain on the wrist cuffs might be broken after a recent, overzealous romp. They just don’t make things like they used to, but Harry suspects that these are made of more sturdy stuff. The chain looks thicker and the metal rings and hooks are clearly not to be trifled with. Thankfully, they’ve got some decent padding, presumably designed for longer-term wear. Even so, this is going to be a long and uncomfortable challenge and that’s even without considering who he’ll be tethered to.

The music quietens and the hosts look far too smug for Harry’s liking. “Housemates, the challenge is simple,” Katrina starts. “Stay tethered to your partner for as long as possible, every minute you’re apart is counted and at the end of twenty-four hours, whoever has managed to stay together the longest, wins!”

Louis leans into Harry’s shoulder and whispers. “Piece of cake. We’ve got this.”

Harry nods, because yeah, this seems far too easy. Sure, it’ll be awkward and uncomfortable, and potentially a bit embarrassing, but he doesn’t see any reason why they can’t last the full allotment of time.

“And now, the prize…” Jared says and retrieves the large, gold envelope from the table next to him, opening it up like he’s announcing a bloody Academy Award. He’s  _ such _ a dick. Harry’s glad he doesn’t really have to interact with him at all during the show. The few events after his UK series were more than enough to want to run in the other direction any time their paths crossed. “The winners will get an advantage in this week's nominations where they will be able to each select one other housemate’s nomination and cancel it out. Aaaaaand the winners will also get to spend one night alone, together, no cameras, in The Sanctuary!”

The crowd roars and the screen flicks to footage of a separate area not yet seen by the housemates, complete with a massive heart-shaped bed and absurd mirrored ceiling above, a hot tub in the small garden, and two side-by-side massage tables with fluffy white robes draped over them. It’s all very romantic and dreadfully clichéd and then Harry remembers he’s on a reality TV show and he chuckles.

Louis leans into his side and nudges him with his shoulder. “What?”

Harry drops his voice to a whisper. “So, we gonna take turns rubbing each other down?”

Louis turns to give him a quick eyebrow raise and smirks. “I love having my glutes worked on,” he says, not at a whisper, Harry notes, and he glances down at Harry’s hands. “Reckon those gigantic paws would feel pretty good on my arse, actually.”

Harry rolls his eyes, he can’t let Louis get the upper hand so early on. “In your dreams, Tomlinson. You just wanna lay me out on that chocolate-box bed. You’re not fooling me for a second.”

Louis clutches at his chest dramatically. “Oh no! The great and wondrous and all-round nice guy, Harry Styles, has me worked out already. Let me bow at your feet and suck your toes.”

“Can’t say I mind a bit of toe sucking.”

“Good, well I like the sucking interspersed with little nibbles, so you’d best be ready to pucker up those ridiculously big lips and clean those unnaturally white teeth in readiness for when we win this damn thing.”

“I didn’t mean I was gonna suck  _ your _ toes…” Harry tries to counter but Louis is cackling too loud to hear him. “Ugh, never mind.” 

The hosts appear back on the screen looking awfully buzzed and enthusiastic. Harry briefly wonders how much caffeine and zeros on their paycheck it took to get them to rise to this level of fakeness. Probably not that many, he muses. At least he’s here for a million dollars. Or £500,000, give or take, after the conversion.

Louis leans in and whispers to Harry. “Get ready to make a run for your suitcase. We don’t want to be stuck in these clothes for however long this lasts. Once we’re tethered we won’t be able to get out of them.”

Harry nods. Damn Louis is smart. Why didn’t  _ he _ think of that?

“Housemates,” Katrina announces to get their attention. “Time to get buckled up! We’ll be back after the break to see our newly joined pairs.”

The screen goes black and a countdown appears, indicating how long before they’re back from the ad break. Louis drops the cuffs and takes off at a run, his suitcase just outside the living room door, never having made it into the bedroom. Harry sprints off toward the bedroom, taking his shirt off and undoing his jeans as he goes. He flings the door open and runs inside, grabbing his case and throwing it on the bed, unzipping it like a man possessed. He finds a well-worn long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, both super comfy and stretchy, to provide as much flexibility as he,  _ they _ , might need. He peels off his jeans and kicks them across the room, pulling on his shorts, and then pushes his case to the ground, turning to run as the case slides across the floor and thuds into the wall.

As he skids back out into the hallway, he hears a door open behind him and turns to see five production staff, clad in all black, come streaming out, Gabe in the lead.

He jogs back over to where Louis is standing, panting, head just popping through the neck of his shirt and Harry comes up alongside, threading his arms through his own shirt and pulling it over his previously styled hair. He runs his fingers through the mess of tacky gel and hopes Louis doesn’t mind taking some time later to let him wash it. He hates having this much product in his hair. 

He glances over at Louis who grins at him. He bends down to pick up their cuffs, taking his time to check Harry’s outfit as he rises back up to standing. “I like your style, Styles,” he says as he gives Harry another cursory once over. Harry does the same and realises that they’re basically dressed in matching outfits; white long-sleeved t-shirts and grey comfortable shorts.

“Great minds and all that,” Harry responds with a small shrug and Louis smirks in reply.

Gabe comes to stand in front of them all. “Alright, we’ve got a few minutes to get you all hooked up and show you how to get out of these when you need to.”

“ _ If _ we need to,” Blake shouts from down the line with all the bravado he can muster, although with the way his partner, Cara, eyes him severely, Harry suspects Blake should probably pay attention to those instructions. She looks murderous and with good reason. The only person Harry would like to be tethered to less than Louis is Blake and he would bet serious cash that he and Cara won’t last the night.

Gabe strides up to Louis and Harry and takes the cuffs from Louis’ hands and gets to work. “You guys changed? Smart. Alright. Which side do you want?”

Harry looks to Louis. “Which hand do you wipe your arse with?”

Louis barks out a laugh, but it’s got a tinge of respect hiding underneath so Harry smiles and Louis holds out his hand. “Right for me.”

“Good. Left for me, so there’s our answer,” Harry says with a nod and holds out his right hand next to Louis left.

Gabe gives a small chuckle and slides the cuffs on, fastening the buckles and making sure they’re not too tight.

The other housemates are getting fitted too and Harry hears them start to ask questions, stupid as they may be. “Can we unhook ourselves when we go to the bathroom?” Hetty asks.

“Sure! If you want to incur a time penalty…” Gabe responds. 

Cara is next. “What about when we shower or go to bed?”

“Same answer,” Gabe replies. 

“But what if I need to go to the loo, and do a poo?” Alyssa whines.

“It’s entirely up to  _ you _ ,” Gabe sing-songs, pleased with the obvious rhyme.

Gabe finishes with their wrists and Harry and Louis extend their legs in tandem as Gabe kneels, repeating the process with the ankle cuffs. He then clips small devices over each of the buckles which are presumably to monitor if they’re taken off.

“These waterproof?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, basically. Just don’t go jumping in the deep end,” Gabe says, motioning toward the pool. “But they’re splash resistant so they’ll be fine in the shower and whatever. That’s if you want to shower fully clothed,” he adds with a smirk. “But I see you guys already worked out that little catch.”

“Yeah, we did,” Louis says in agreement.

“ _ Louis _ did,” Harry clarifies, unable to help himself from giving Louis the credit he deserves. He’s saved them from an uncomfortable night in tight clothes at the very least and Harry is grateful. Louis furrows his brow at him and then quickly turns back to the screen. The countdown has forty-five seconds left as Gabe does one more check of the equipment and backs away. “Good luck, guys.”

“Thanks, Gabe,” Harry and Louis say in unison.

“Good luck, everyone!” Gabe shouts to the group and production staff all scurry out of the room as the clock ticks down to zero, Katrina and Jared reappearing on the screen. The camera scans along the line of housemates, the crowd screaming in the background. As it gets to them, Louis clasps their cuffed hands together and raises their arms above their heads. Harry marvels, once again, at how good Louis is at this. Harry fist pumps the air enthusiastically, plastering a beaming smile on his face and he sees Louis do the same in his peripheral vision.

“I see some of you are happier about this than the others…” Katrina says. “How are you feeling, Louis?”

“Really good! Me and my new best mate Harry here are gonna have a blast!” Louis shouts and reaches across their chests to offer up his fist for Harry which he bumps eagerly, keen to continue their show of teamwork and put the other competitors off their game.

“How about you, Blake?” Jared queries.

“Oh, it’s going to awesome. Cara and I are gonna have so much fun, you know, getting to know each other… closely, uhm, yeah.”

The statement doesn’t even make sense and Cara’s wince might be small, but it’s still noticeable. Yeah. They’re not gonna make it to midnight. Unless she just straight-up knocks him out. 

“Okay!” Katrina shouts, and is all the shouting really necessary? “Have fun! Make sure you use this time wisely to get to know each other! And remember housemates, no matter how tempting it might be, no discussion about nominations is permitted!”

The hosts wrap up the rest of the show and at the end, the housemates all stand and wave and smile. There will be shows broadcast every night put together with the footage shot from the hundreds of cameras placed around the house and yard, then the live nominations show on Friday and the first eviction on Sunday night. 

“Ugh,” Cara says from beside them. “You guys changed. That was so clever,” she says and drags Blake’s hand up to her hair, smacking herself in the face in the process. She shoots him a glare and he mouths an affronted  _ What? _ in response. “ _ Shit _ , this is gonna be a long twenty-four hours.”

Harry leans into Louis side as the housemates are distractedly playing with their cuffs and trying to walk three-legged. “Bedroom, now.”

“ _ Harry _ !” Louis says with faux shock. “I’m not that kind of boy, you’ll have to buy me dinner first, at least.”

“The sleeping situation has changed and I reckon we wanna snag one of the beds next to the wall. Bec and Alyssa have taken the ones on either end.”

“Good thinking.” Louis nods and grips Harry’s hand, steepling their fingers together. “It’ll be easier to get our balance and work in unison if we do this. Less likely to fall flat on our faces.”

He’s right, because apparently he always is, and that would be much more annoying if it wasn’t so helpful in their current situation. “Yeah. Yeah, good idea. Joined legs first?”

“Yup. We’ll count off each time and always lead with cuffed legs. Go on one?”

“Sounds like a plan. We’ll grab your suitcase first. Three, two, one.”

And then they’re off, walking easily; Harry shortening his long strides slightly and Louis slowing his faster pace as they learn each other’s gaits. They bend down so Louis can zip up his bag and then head back through the living room, glancing over at the other housemates who are all still trying to negotiate basic movements. It’s hard not to laugh but it’s also not worth getting anyone offside this early, so Harry holds it in and they make their way down the hallway to the bedroom.

“We should go for the one farthest from the door, but if the girls arc-up, we can take the other one,” Harry says as they move over to pick up his jeans and he pushes the case over against the far wall with his untethered foot.

Louis sets his case on the bed and Harry sits down, bringing his leg up onto the mattress and bending his leg, twisting around to let Louis guide his hand as he needs. Louis opens up his suitcase and pulls out a small soft toy, a hedgehog, and Harry recognizes it from his previous season.

“Mascot?”

“Had it since I was a kid. Brought me luck last time, figured it was best not to tempt fate,” he says as he tosses the small fluff-ball at the pillows. He takes out a grey woollen beanie and bends down so Harry doesn’t have to stretch too far and pulls it over his head. “I get cold easily,” he says by way of explanation.

“Well, I’m like a furnace on a good day, so that’ll work.”

Louis nods and takes out his toiletries bag and some warm looking slippers, dropping them to the ground and sliding one foot in. Harry twists his leg a bit further and Louis slides his other foot in.

“Thanks.”

“Oh! Actually, I’ve got a massive zip-up hoodie too which will probably stretch around us both.”

“Yeah?” Louis looks up, a hint of surprise on his face. Perhaps Harry is coming across too nice and he scolds himself internally. The thing is, Louis doesn’t seem as terrible as he’d originally thought and he really has a handle on this challenge, thinking ahead and knowing how to craft an image and put on a show. “Alright, let’s have it, then we can go and get a cuppa. No more booze tonight… Bambi,” Louis says with a cheeky smile.

“Oi!” Harry shrieks and swats Louis in the chest playfully. “Don’t you start with that shit, I’ve just gotten people to stop calling me that.”

“If the shoe fits, babe...”

Harry had earned himself the nickname during his season after one too many trip-and-nearly-fall incidents. It’s deserved, he supposes, but he’s grown into himself since then and he rarely embarrassed himself like that now. Although he acknowledges that essentially running a three-legged race for a day is going to increase his chances of going arse-over-tit and taking Louis down with him, so he acquiesces. “Yeah. Alright,  _ babe _ . No more booze.”

“Okay. Let’s get you sorted and grab that hoodie, then we’ll waddle out to the kitchen and see how the others are faring.”

“Not well, would be my guess, based on what we saw earlier,” Harry says with a smirk and stands. They shuffle over and Harry picks up his suitcase, dumping it onto the bed and taking out his own fluffy slippers, surprisingly similar to Louis’.

“Do we shop in the same places or something?”

Harry laughs and shakes his head. “I have no idea.” He pulls out the hoodie, a big black thing he bought to go over his favourite fluffy woollen jumper. He slides his arm into the sleeve and reaches around to stretch it out across Louis’ back. Louis threads his arm in and it’s plenty big enough for the two of them. They work together to zip the front and slot their free hands into the large pouch at the front, fingers grazing each other before they both ball their hands into fists.

“Fits like a bloody glove, Haz. Nice call.”

And it does, but not just the hoodie, Harry thinks in passing. He pushes the thought away as quickly as it had manifested. Focus is the key and he refuses to let this opportunity slip through his fingers because he was distracted by someone as cunning and cagey as Louis Tomlinson, no matter how beguiling he might be; Harry’s made of stronger stuff than that.

“Ready?” Harry asks and Louis nods in reply. “Three, two, one,” Harry says and they head toward the doorway and turn sideways, Louis going through first and Harry trailing behind. They straighten up and wander through the now-abandoned living room and follow the sounds of laughter coming from the kitchen out across the yard and into the other building. 

The sight is one to behold as they stride inside. Pairs chattering away, and some snipes here and there as the other housemates try to navigate their new burdensome attachments. 

Bec and Alyssa are fighting over a blender and looking like they’d like very much to throttle each other, Cara is rolling her eyes at something Blake has said, Frieda is attempting to make conversation with a very reluctant Hetty, and Dylan and Grant are just sitting back drinking and watching it all unfold with smirks on their faces.

“Guys! Tell Alyssa that you have to put ice in every cocktail otherwise it tastes like shit!” Bec shouts exasperatedly at them from behind the island bench as they wander over.

“Bec, Alyssa says you have to put ice in every cocktail otherwise it tastes like shit,” Louis says entirely unhelpfully and Harry chuckles.

“ _ Louis… _ ” Alyssa whines. “Harry, tell her!”

“Nope. Not getting dragged into this. We’re just here to grab a cuppa.”

Bec eyes them suspiciously. “Well, well, well… don’t you look snug as two bugs in a rug.”

“We’re just adaptable, love,” Louis provides as they walk to the fridge and Louis grabs a carton of milk.

“Cute as two peas in a pod, I’d say,” Alyssa adds and Harry catches her sly wink and knowing smile as he reaches into the pantry to retrieve the tea and sugar.

Louis fills the kettle and sets it to boil and then they make their way to the cupboard so Harry can pull down two mugs. They move like one and it earns some more curious looks from their other housemates. 

“Bec, we stole your bed, I hope that’s okay? Figured you wouldn’t be needing it tonight,” Louis says as he adds tea bags to their mugs.

“Nah, you’re alright. I definitely won’t need it ‘cause we’re gonna ace this challenge, aren’t we Lyss,” Bec says and puts her hand up for a high-five which Alyssa returns eagerly.

“Thanks, girls, that’s good of you,” Harry says gratefully. He would’ve fought for it but is glad they don’t have to. The kettle boils and Louis pours in the water, Harry adding a splash of milk to his own mug and offering Louis the same.

“Yeah, same as yours, Haz.”

They both take a few sips as they observe the others who are stumbling around and griping at each other. It’s going to be a long night for some of them.

They sit down at the table with Dylan and Grant and chat away for a while, getting to know more about them. Dylan is a bit of an odd one, but Harry genuinely likes him. He’s smart and has an unusual way of constructing his sentences which Harry finds interesting, almost as though he’s speaking like an alien who has only just started to learn human customs. Grant is laid back and just sort of chills his way through everything. But it’s Louis that he can’t tear his eyes away from. Even taking into account their forced proximity, Louis is larger than life. His eyes light up when he speaks and his voice has this incredibly alluring rasp and higher-pitched inflection when he gets to a good bit in whatever story he’s telling. It’s magnetic.

Harry is trying really hard not to fall under his spell, but it’s just so fucking difficult, particularly with the way his smell is tickling at Harry’s nostrils and permeating his brain until he can barely hold it at bay. He’s clearly not the only one, though. As the evening wears on, the rest of the housemates migrate to the table and soon they’re all hanging off his every word.

Louis turns to Harry and like this they’re so close their noses are practically touching. Louis quirks his brow at Harry’s presumably dazed expression. “You look tired, Haz. Wanna call it? Reckon that bed is calling our names.”

“Mhmmm…” Harry stifles a yawn with the back of his hand as if on cue.

As they wander back across the yard, Harry wonders what the cameras are seeing. Are they capturing his growing fondness for this enigmatic man? How will the producers let it play out? Will they manipulate it and twist it into something else or will they let it unfold naturally?

Harry had learnt during his first season that being obsessed with the cameras and trying to pretend he’s something he’s not was useless. Other contestants had tried, of course, but he’d just decided to stay true to himself. Honesty being the best policy if for no other reason than it’s the easiest thing to remember. Putting on a show, playing a role, is just so exhausting and no one can keep it up twenty-four-seven anyway. You always get found out in the end.

“Toilet, teeth, bed?” Louis asks as they walk into the bedroom.

Harry nods and he retrieves his toiletries bag from his suitcase. “Sounds good. Do you have any weird sleeping habits?”

Louis chuckles. “If you’re asking if I snore, then no, but I do… uhm… snuffle in my sleep. A bit. You?”

“Nope. But I have been accused of being an octopus, so you’ve got that to look forward to.”

“Haz, were literally tied together,” Louis deadpans. “Not sure how much worse it could get.”

“Yeah, well, just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

They take off Harry’s hoodie and wander into the communal bathroom, setting down their bags and grabbing a towel from the well-stocked linen cupboard. The bathroom is enormous, a row of five sinks inset into a long benchtop on one side and over a nib wall, five open showers like a gym on the other. Through a door at the end, there are three toilet cubicles and Harry and Louis make their way awkwardly into one of them, shuffling around and closing the door behind them. 

“Hey there, production team,” Louis says for the people listening in to their every word. “Harry and I are going to the bathroom so we’ll be off the air for a bit.”

They both switch off their mic packs and Louis moves to the side as best he can to let Harry go first. “Ones or twos, Haz?”

“Uhhhh… both, actually.”

“Are you sure you’re comfortable doing this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“Yup! No issues here,” Louis says and leans his forearm on the wall, burying his head in the crook of his elbow, trying to give Harry a tiny sliver of privacy.

Harry drops his shorts and briefs and sits down. It’s as embarrassing as he’d expected but they’re in this together and at least there are no prying cameras in here. “Right. So, full disclosure,” Harry starts, deciding to go with his honesty policy. “I was on a juice cleanse before I came in,” he says sheepishly.

Louis snickers, chest shaking. “S’Alright. I had two Big Macs before the driver picked me up from the hotel so they’re gonna be coming out soon and I can assure you, that won’t be pretty.”

Harry squawks out a laugh and slaps his hand over his face. Unfortunately, it’s the one that’s chained to Louis’ and he ends up smacking himself in the face. “ _ Ooouch _ .”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” Louis says through cackles of muffled laughter.

Once they’ve regained their composure Harry tries to get things moving along, but it’s not easy. “I uhm… I think I have performance anxiety.”

Louis turns his head slightly and peeks out from under his fringe. “Want me to sing or something?”

“Actually… that would be awesome.” Harry’s curious how Louis’ raspy tones will sound wrapping themselves around a melody.

“Any requests?”

“Whatever you think will do the trick.”

Louis sucks in a deep breath and then he just...

_ Yooooooo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want, So tell me what you want, what you really, really want, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want, So tell me what you want, what you really, really want, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ahhhhhhh _

Harry laughs so hard he lets rip an almighty, wet fart and then tenses and clenches and tries to stop but it’s too late, so he just goes with it as Louis keeps singing Wannabe by the Spice Girls, popping his hips and tapping out an accompanying drumbeat on the wall. It’s possibly the most ridiculous moment of Harry’s life and amazingly, he isn’t embarrassed anymore.

He finishes just as Louis ends the song and Harry cleans himself up, standing to pull up his pants and flush.

They shuffle around and swap positions, Harry leaning on the wall and hiding his face.

“Want me to return the favour?”

“Yeah. Yes please,” Louis responds, a little sigh of relief escaping his lips.

_ Colours of the world, Spice up your life, Every boy and every girl, Spice up your life, People of the world, Spice up your life, Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh _

Louis cackles and Harry continues, bolstered by the feedback from his one-man audience, shaking his arse in line with the lyrics.

_ Slam it to the left, If you're havin' a good time, Shake it to the right, If ya know that you feel fine, Chicas to the front, Ha ha, Go round. _

Harry keeps singing until he feels Louis stand and when the rustle of clothing stops, and the toilet flushes, he turns around. The beaming smile on Louis’ reddened face sends a spark of electricity through his veins. They’ve just taken a shit in front of each other, sung Spice Girls songs at the tops of their lungs, and danced like idiots, but in this moment, Harry can’t remember being so enamoured by another man in his life.

“You’re a bit of alright, Harry Styles.”

“Right back at cha, Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis squares his shoulders “We’re gonna win this fucking thing, you know.”

“I do know.”

They slide out of the cubicle and switch on their mic packs, letting the production crew know they’re back on the air and head into the bathroom. As they work in tandem to brush their teeth, Harry notices Cara, Hetty, and Dylan all walk in silently… without their partners. Louis has his head lowered rinsing his mouth and Harry nudges him gently.

“Lou, look,” Harry whispers. Louis raises his head and they both watch them in the reflection of the mirror as they go about their nightly routines; Hetty into the toilets, Dylan to the showers, and Cara coming up alongside them at the sinks. 

Harry gawks at Cara and she must sense it. “What?” She says to them through the mirror. “It’s not like I was gonna go to the toilet with him attached to me.” Cara looks to Harry and then back to Louis. “Wait… did you two… oh my god, you  _ did _ !”

“Everybody shits, love. No big deal,” Louis says with a shrug.

Cara shakes her head. “Well, now you’ve just got Bec and Alyssa to compete with. But based on-“

She’s interrupted by the sound of raised voices from the bedroom. The girls loudly disagreeing over something that Harry can’t quite make out.

“Yeah. Based on  _ that _ ,” Cara continues, thumbing over her shoulder. “You’ve got this one in the bag.”

Harry and Louis smile at each other in the mirror, Louis raising his eyebrows in that cheeky little way Harry is becoming accustomed to. They finish up and wash their faces before heading back into the bedroom. Bec and Alyssa seem to have calmed down somewhat, although they’re still fighting over control as they try to get ready for bed.

Blake looks up as they walk down the end to their bed. “Did you two, uhm… go to the loo, like that?”

“Yup!” Louis says proudly as he peels back the covers, Harry standing by his side.

“Damn it…” Blake hisses and it makes a self-satisfied bubble bloom in Harry’s chest. 

They both sit on the bed and scoot back, arranging themselves on their sides, and face each other with Louis’ back to the wall. Harry pulls the covers up around their necks as other housemates bustle around them but he’s finding it hard to focus on anything other than Louis’ eyes and the little crinkles at the edges when he smiles. He’s telling Harry a story about a camping trip he took when he was at school where he and his mate had super glued the tent zippers closed on the teachers’ tents and proceeded to make off with the entire stash of marshmallows.

Harry giggles and Louis barrels on explaining that they’d eventually gotten caught, but not before making themselves ill eating ten packets between them, stuffing their mouths full of as many as they could in one go.

“ _ This... is Big Brother, _ ” a voice booms out through the speakers and they look to the ceiling reflexively. “Good evening housemates. Two minutes until lights out. I hope you enjoy your first,  _ cozy _ night in the house.”

Harry hears the other housemates settling into their beds and he should turn over and look to see who’s sharing with who but right now he can’t be arsed to care. He’s warm, snuggled up in bed with one of the most gorgeous men he's ever laid eyes on, and he can’t seem to focus on anything else. “You need anything else before lights out, Lou?”

“Nah, I’m good. But we could maybe, like… I like to sleep with my hand under the pillow, is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Hang on, let’s share the one pillow, then it’ll be easier.”

“Oh, really? It’ll be easier, will it?” Louis teases and Harry wants to take the offer back, except maybe he doesn’t. “You sure you’re not just trying to get closer to me…  _ Harold _ ?”

And that’s… new. Harry blushes and immediately wishes the lights were already out. “S’just Harry, actually, and no, I just thought it would be more comfortable, but if you don’t want to-”

“No!” Louis cuts him off. “I mean… I like your thinking, Harold.”

Harry rolls his eyes but pushes his pillow to the side and shuffles a little closer, pulling Louis’ pillow toward him to make room for himself and slides their joined hands up underneath. Louis burrows down into it with his nose and it might be the most adorable thing Harry has ever witnessed outside of kitten videos on YouTube.

The lights go into night mode, just a faint strip of blue lighting around the edges of the ceiling as Big Brother says, “ _ Goodnight housemates, sleep well. _ ”

“Goodnight, Big Brother!” The housemates call out in unison and Harry can practically taste Louis’ breath on his tongue, minty and fresh from his toothpaste. He’s never been this close, this intimate with someone he wasn’t involved with before and it’s messing with his head. His body is desperate to inch even closer, wrap Louis in his arms, kiss him, touch him. 

“So,” Louis whispers in the dark. “What do you reckon Katrina meant when she said we should use this time  _ wisely _ to get to know each other?”

“You thinking it’s a bonus for the challenge? Maybe a quiz?”

“Mhmmm… could be.”

Harry can just barely see the outline of Louis’ features in the dim lighting, his feathered fringe falling across his forehead, and eyelashes casting a soft shadow on the bridge of his nose, and he’s overwhelmed by the sudden urge to know everything about him. “Alright, well, we should do twenty questions then.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. I mean, the challenge could be over by morning. Three pairs have already bailed and I doubt the girls will make it to sunrise.”

“Excellent point, Harold,” Louis says, going for his new nickname again, and Harry can see those damn crinkles beside his eyes. It makes his stomach swoop.

“Let's do faves first,” Harry suggests and wiggles around, settling himself further into their cocoon.

Louis nods. “Okay. My favourite colour is red, favourite movie is The Hunt For Red October, fave song is Mr Brightside, fave food is Pizza, fave drink is Vodka Red Bull, and fave TV Show is Peaky Blinders. Your turn.”

“Uhm… blue, The Notebook, Landslide, Pizza, Vodka Soda with fresh lime, and David Tennant's Doctor Who.”

“Ohhh yeah, he was my favourite Doctor, too. Nice. Alright. Let’s do either or.”

Harry bends the leg not attached to Louis between them and it presses into Louis’ thigh. “Sorry,” he says and pulls it away, but Louis reaches out his hand and grabs it under the knee, returning it to where it was.

“Hey, it’s..,” Louis says softly. “Look. I predict we’re gonna end up a tangle of limbs by morning so we may as well make ourselves comfortable.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’m just gonna…” Louis trails off and drapes his leg over the top of Harry’s. “That okay? Not too heavy?”

“Ugh… you’re crushing me, you’re so huge. How will I ever survive.”

Louis swats at him, presumably meaning to hit his chest but he catches Harry’s chin instead making him flinch. “Shit. Sorry,” Louis chuckles and trails his fingertips along Harry’s jaw and Harry’s stomach does that swooping thing again. He really wishes it would stop doing that.

“S’okay. You comfy?”

“Mhmmmm….”

“So, either or…. I’ll go. Dogs not cats, aisle seat not window seat, Apple not Android, tea not coffee, morning not evening, uhm… auto not manual, beaches not pools… and…. I can’t think of anymore.”

“Damn. Yeah, I’m the same for all of them except I prefer the window seat. You know…” Louis pauses. “We shoulda gone on a dating show, we’d have been a perfect match.”

Harry flushes from his head right down to his toes and very nearly chokes on his own spit. “Yeah, you think?”

“Mhmmm…” Louis lays his palm over Harry’s heart and he’s sure Louis will be able to feel the beats rapidly increasing in pace, tapping his fingers in time with his answers like he’s playing a keyboard. “I dress to the left not right, read the ends of books before the start, prefer to be hot not cold, home cooking over take out, Spotify not iTunes.”

“Same for me… for all of them.”

“You read the ends of books first?”

Harry nods. “Gotta know where I’m heading before I decide to take the journey.”

“That’s how I feel too.”

They run through more lists, go over their family history, schooling, sports teams, jobs, everything they can think of until their blinks last longer on the close than the open and their breathing starts to even out. 

“You know…” Harry says sleepily, the veil of darkness and pull of sleep making him more honest than he would be otherwise. “I know we’re arch-nemeses, and we’re not supposed to get along and all that, but it’s getting harder...” He’s interrupted by a yawn escaping from his throat.

He’s about to finish his sentence but Louis jumps in instead. “But it’s getting harder to remember that. You’re not making it easy, Harold.”

“Neither are you,  _ Lewis _ .”

“Touché,” Louis says with a giggle and it’s one of the nicest sounds Harry’s ever heard.

“Night, Lou.”

“Mmmmm… night, Haz.”


	3. Trust

So, it turns out Harry Styles isn’t the prat Louis thought he was, either that or his total-asshole-radar is broken. He seems like a genuinely nice guy, is the thing, and Louis is having trouble maintaining a resistance to his charms.

He’s been helpful and smart and seems keen to work together to win the challenge. Plus, he’s a great cuddler and so warm and toasty that Louis thinks there are probably worse things than being tethered to him for twenty-four hours. 

But… Harry Styles also has buttons. Great, big, glorious buttons just there for Louis to prod and poke and whack at whenever it pleases him, and it pleases him  _ a lot _ . His ability to make the man blush is a particularly gratifying reward for his efforts and Louis has already been thinking of ways to work more sexual innuendos into their interactions to see how far he can push him.

Louis snuggles in closer, burrowing his nose into Harry’s neck, the sleep-warm scent of him making Louis’ skin tingle in the way it does when the sun’s rays glide over him on a cool Spring day. The lights are still off but Louis knows it’s morning, even without the benefit of clocks in the house he’s always had an uncanny ability to gauge the time. Harry has his arm wrapped around Louis’ back and his leg slung over his hip and it’s… really fucking nice. He’s never been a big fan of being caged like this, always wanting to have the upper hand in relationships, and feeling a little hard done by in the physical presence department, but this… this is somehow different. He can’t quite put his finger on what it is, but he knows he’ll work it out. 

He’d slept like the dead which is uncharacteristic for him, barely having moved through the night. He’s usually up and down to the loo and kitchen, broken sleep more the norm than not. He chalked it up to the adrenaline-fueled day and comfortable bed but also tentatively allowed for the possibility that the man currently breathing warm air onto the top of his head may have had something to do with it as well.

His dick certainly seemed to agree and had been at half-mast when he woke. The initial panic that Harry may have been awake and would start the day with the upper hand had been quickly quashed when he felt Harry’s chest rising and falling evenly against his cheek. After a few minutes, and a few stern words, his dick had decided to behave itself and he’d shifted around, accidentally brushing up against Harry’s own morning wood, apparently even more eager to start the day with a bang than his had been. Or perhaps it’s just the sheer size of the damn thing that had made it seem more mouthwateringly obvious.

It had been hard not to notice his bulge last night when he walked into the house, not that it was the first time Louis had seen it, what with having watched an entire season of the man wandering around the house half-naked. But seeing it on TV versus seeing it up close, and in person, are two  _ very _ different things.

Louis slowly moves his leg so his knee is resting under Harry’s cock and up against his balls, careful not to wake the sleeping beauty wrapped around him, and really, Louis must’ve done something monumentally good in a previous life to have this gift handed to him with a big red bow on top. He has a plan, see, a devilish plan to elicit another one of those gorgeous blushes that he loves so much. Harry will most likely be mortified, but it’ll be worth it.

Louis licks his hand to check his morning breath and it isn’t too bad. He pats down his hair as best he can with Harry’s chin on top of his head and runs his fingers through his fringe, swooping it to the side and then clears the sleep from the corners of his eyes.

He hums softly and fists his hand into Harry’s shirt causing him to stir but not wake. He’ll have to step it up a notch. He snuffles softly and tilts his head up onto Harry’s jaw, letting a small moan escape his lips.

Harry stirs again and this time he gets the desired response. “Stop wriggling, Lou,” Harry says, voice deep and croaky and so sexy Louis could combust right here and now.

“I can definitely see where those octopus comments come from now,” Louis says softly, the raspy tinge to his voice more evident after a night of disuse. He moves his head back so he can watch Harry’s reaction in all its glory and waits.

“Shhhhh… m’sleeping,” Harry chides goodnaturedly without opening his eyes.

Louis goes in for the kill. “Well, there’s one bit of you that’s definitely  _ not _ asleep.”

Harry’s eyes fly open and he freezes, breath held, body tense and Louis can practically see the gears turning in his head as he catalogues his appendages. He snaps his hips back and Louis smirks at him. “Oh god,” Harry groans, wincing and closing his eyes tightly.

Louis watches in awe as the blush rampages up his elongated neck to his jaw and then onto his cheeks. “S’alright, love, happens to the best of us.”

“Fuck, I’m  _ so _ sorry, Lou, this is… this is unacceptable,” Harry says and scoots back further, taking his arms and legs and lovely smell and body warmth away and hang on, maybe Louis didn’t fully think through all the implications of his cunning plan. Damn his stupid mushed-up morning brain. 

“Nooooo… come back here, m’cold, don’t take the furnace away,” Louis says as he makes grabby hands, well, one grabby hand at Harry’s shirt. And what in the hell is happening, he sounds needy and whiny and clingy, which is very much  _ not _ what he was going for.

“You- you don’t mind?” Harry stammers and opens his eyes again. Ahhh that’s better. 

“‘Course not, you idiot. S’just biology. I was in the same state five minutes ago.” And Louis’ brain really needs to get with the program because there goes his upper hand.

Harry smiles and rolls onto his back, stretching his free arm up to the headboard and yawning, big and wide, before scrunching his nose up adorably. “Why are we awake, Lou? It’s too early.”

“You know what they say… early bird gets the wood on.”

Harry groans again and Louis really hadn’t thought finding Harry’s weak spot would be so easy but maybe he’s just better at this than he gave himself credit for. Harry’s weakness is teasing, sexy teasing to be exact, and honestly, Louis is the master, the fucking  _ king _ of sexy teasing and innuendo and flirting of everything of that ilk.

Harry huffs out a breath. “Anyway… how have the other pairs faired overnight?”

“Nice segue. Smooth,” Louis says as the lights flicker on, illuminating the room as if on cue.

“ _ This... is Big Brother. Good morning housemates, _ ” the voice from above sounds out in the previously quiet room. “ _ The Diary Room is now open. _ ”

“Good morning, Big Brother!” Harry and Louis shout and then giggle at their exuberance as the other housemates groan and make attempts at good mornings of their own.

Harry turns his head and Louis raises up onto his elbow, trying to make out the human-shaped lumps in the beds beside them. 

Cara and Blake have a surprisingly sturdy-looking pillow divider between them, and Hetty is in bed alone, with Frieda nowhere to be seen. Grant and Dylan are back to back on opposite sides of their bed, and Bec and Alyssa are in bed together, but very much not shackled.

“ _ Yes _ … Looks like we’ve won, Haz.”

“We’re the dream team, Lou.” Harry offers his free hand up for a high-five which Louis slaps happily. “Wait. Do we still need to stay like this until the end of the twenty-four hours?”

Louis tries to recall Katrina’s exact words. “Actually, yeah, I think so. Uhm… maybe they’ll cut it short because all the others have bailed?”

“Mmmm… maybe. Hey, Lou?”

Louis looks down at Harry, his hair haloed over the pillow, moss-green eyes shining in the fluorescent lighting, and it’s really quite unfair how attractive he looks. “Yeah?”

“I need to wee.”

Louis smiles. “Me too. Let’s go, then we can see what’s what for breakie. I’m starving.”

They slide out of bed and rummage around in their bags finding their flip-flops before saying their good mornings to housemates who are stirring in bed.

Harry pees first, while Louis turns away and then they swap places. They don’t distract each other with a song this morning, which Louis kind of misses; Harry’s deep timbre had leant itself nicely to his Spice Girls rendition and he hopes he gets to hear it again. They brush their teeth and splash some water on their faces before making their way out and through the yard to the kitchen.

Frieda is at the cooktop, pans sizzling and the aroma of a good, English fry-up filling the room. She turns, spatula in hand as they come in, a broad smile spreading across her face when she sees that they’re still tethered. “Well done, boys,” she says with a nod toward their bound wrists. “Long night?”

“Nah, best sleep ever. Louis is a great cuddler.” Harry offers as they take their seats at the island bench.

“Awwwww that’s so lovely. Hetty fidgets and kicks in her sleep.”

“You sure she was asleep?” Louis asks wryly with a quirk of his brow.

“That’s, well… that certainly puts a different spin on it. Perhaps not?” She muses as she piles another load of mushrooms onto a platter. “Hungry?”

“Starved,” Louis says and stifles a yawn behind his hand. “What’s cooking?”

“I went through the supplies and found enough for a proper English, hopefully everyone’s hungry.

“Smells great, Frieda. Thanks so much,” Harry says and there’s that friendly, polite boy he remembers from Harry’s season. He really had thought it was all an act, just playing it up for the cameras and trying to get in the good graces of his fellow housemates, now though, Louis isn’t so sure. He’s yet to see anything that would make him think that the Harry before him isn’t the real deal.

“Happy to do it. Feels weird if I don’t have a brood to cook for.” Frieda’s a good egg, and if she continues with this level of hospitality, she’ll be someone the other housemates will definitely want to keep around. “Kettle’s just boiling. You look like you could murder a cuppa, Louis.”

“God, yeah. Can’t function without a tea or three. Haz?”

Harry nods as they stand and glide effortlessly between the cupboard, pantry and fridge, making a big pot of tea, enough for Louis to have his fill and plenty left over for everyone else. 

“You two are really getting good at that, it’s like you’re one person,” Frieda says as she sets another platter of steaming food on the dining table.

“It’s all about teamwork, love,” Louis offers as they slide into their seats, earning a shy smile from Harry.

Bec and Alyssa wander in and say their good mornings before making themselves some much-needed coffee if the bags under their eyes are anything to go by. The other housemates join them until all are present and accounted for.

The sun is streaming into the yard and already heating up the day. It’s going to be a hot one and Louis would like nothing more than to strip off and jump into the enticing water of the pool, but he knows they can’t submerge the monitors on the cuffs so he’ll just have to wait.

They all eat and chat, wondering what the day might hold and trying to work out where the Sanctuary might be. Freida and Grant do some recon on the food situation and have worked out they have enough for the week but will need to sort out a luxury food budget for next week and are curious as to what kind of challenge they might be set as a group to win that.

The hours tick by as they share stories of home and work and family and life in the Big Brother houses they’d inhabited previously. Hetty is warming up, albeit gradually, and strangely it’s Dylan of all people who is bringing her out of her shell; turns out they’re both massive gamers which is definitely something Louis didn’t see coming. Frieda is making inroads with Blake, and they seem to be the perfect combination of needy and mothering. They make sandwiches for lunch and a few of the housemates sneak off to the Diary Room while Blake and Grant try out the gym for a quick session. Harry and Louis are happy just to stay put, acting as the anchors for the kitchen conversations; being tethered is fine, but it doesn’t really lend itself to joining in with anything more adventurous.

“ _ This... is Big Brother. Harry and Louis to the Diary Room. _ ” 

A chorus of  _ Ooooooo’s _ rings out around the table and they raise their joined hands, flipping off the other housemates with a seemingly practised ease as they head outside. 

“What do you think this is, Lou?”

“Reckon we’ve won the challenge. It’s been like… sixteen or seventeen hours now? So that must mean no one else can beat us, even if we took the cuffs off for the rest of the time,” Louis says as they reach the Diary Room door.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Think I’m gonna miss being tied to you, though.”

“Awwwww same, Haz, it’s been a blast. But just think, once we’ve got these off we can dive into that-“

“Pool!” Harry finishes for him. “Fuck, yeah. Gonna laze out there for the rest of the day.”

“You read my mind,” Louis says and smiles as Harry pushes the big blue button on the wall and the door slides open.

Inside they’re met with an enormous, high backed chair upholstered in shimmery gold material with a massive Big Brother eye on the wall behind. Subtly was never really on the cards.

“ _ Hello, Harry and Louis, _ ” the familiar voice says. Tone low and words even.

“Hi, Big Brother,” they both reply happily.

“ _ Congratulations on your efforts with the first challenge. It’s been an impressive show of teamwork. You made it through seventeen hours and no other pair can surpass that now within the allotted time period. Therefore, I’m happy to say that you are the winners of the nomination advantage and the night in the Sanctuary. _ ”

“Yes!” Louis shouts and flings his arm around Harry’s neck, sinking easily into his warm embrace. They unbuckle the cuffs and free themselves from each other as Big Brother continues.

“ _ The entrance to the Sanctuary will be revealed this afternoon where you will have three-course chef-prepared dinner and spend the night, waking up to a gourmet, champagne breakfast before rejoining the rest of your housemates. Your time in the Sanctuary will be filmed up until you finish dinner and then again from when breakfast is served, but the rest of the time is your own to do whatever you want… in private. No cameras, no mic packs. _ ”

There’s a hint of mischief in Big Brother’s voice and the implications are blatantly obvious. Louis tries to school his expression for the cameras but his brain is suddenly running rampant, images of him and Harry together suddenly swirling in his brain without permission.

“T-thanks, Big Brother,” Harry stammers and squirms beside him and Louis worries that perhaps he doesn’t want to spend any more alone time with him, making his heart plummet. Which is ridiculous. Less than a day ago he hated this man, or, well, disliked him intensely at least. But now that’s he’s gotten to know Harry he doesn’t want to be apart from him. He’s loved having this closeness with someone again, or maybe it’s for the first time? Louis isn’t sure. But perhaps Harry really was just putting it all on for show and to win the challenge.

“Thanks, Big Brother!” Louis shouts, completely overcompensating for the turmoil raging in his head.

“ _ Goodbye, boys, and have fun, _ ” Big Brother says, ending the conversation.

The negative thoughts that were spinning around start to take up permanent residence in his distrusting brain when Harry reaches for Louis’ hand as they stand, sliding his fingers down his palm in a way that has become like second nature to them both. Harry pulls back, realising his mistake, and shakes his head. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“S’Alright. I was about to do the same,” Louis offers with a shrug, trying to ease Harry’s discomfort.

They leave the Diary Room but not each other’s sides. It’s a weird sensation no longer being tied together.

“This feels weird,” Harry chuckles, putting voice to Louis’ thoughts.

“Was just thinking that…”

“Swim?” Harry asks, looking at Louis hopefully.

“You read my mind, Harold.”

They head into the bedroom and find their swimmers, taking off the mic packs in readiness and carrying them in their hands as they grab a couple of towels from the linen cupboard. Louis finds it a struggle to drag his gaze away from the broad expanse of Harry’s back as they walk into the living room. Strong muscles moving under his skin as his long legs stride forward, hips swaying perhaps a little too obviously.

Harry stops just before the door to the yard and looks back, a devilish smile blooming on his face. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!” He takes off at a run, leaping through the doorway before Louis can even react.

“You bastard!” Louis shouts and runs after him, dropping his towel and mic pack on a sun lounger on the way past. Harry might have long legs, but Louis is fast and determined and catches up to him just as Harry takes flight. They cannonball into the water almost in unison and it’s cool on his heated skin, the sun having warmed only the first foot or so before the cold sets in below. He bursts back up through the surface at the same time as Harry and they cackle and splash each other with glee.

There’s a net above the pool, mics attached at short intervals to catch the housemates’ conversations without their own mic packs on and perhaps they should have been cautious when they leapt in. No matter.

Louis watches as Harry swims away, long arms gliding through the water effortlessly down to the end where the waterfall is cascading off the rock shelf above. He ducks underneath it and turns, standing so his shoulders are out of the water and brings his hands up to run his fingers through his hair as he walks back through. His tattoos glisten in the sunshine and his biceps bulge in a way that makes Louis’ knees weak. It’s one of the most arousing sights Louis has ever seen and flings himself onto his back to float and try and regain some semblance of composure.

He hears Harry sloshing toward him just before he feels his hands under his back, supporting him and slowly spinning him around. Louis relaxes into it and lets Harry guide him around the pool. It’s so soothing, his ears underwater hearing only muffled sounds from above as his body is completely controlled by Harry’s gentle touch; a push here, a pull there. With his eyes closed, he has no idea where he is until he feels the weight of the waterfall pounding on his feet. He’s about to jerk away but then decides to wait and see what Harry does. Will he let him get pulled under, or will he support him and move him away in time?

The pressure from the water moves up over his ankles, shins, knees, onto the bottoms of his thighs. It’s arousing in a strange way, the anticipation building as it nears his crotch and he allows Harry to take complete control. He can feel it splashing up onto his dick and he wills himself not to get hard. This is a test for their fledgling friendship and it nudges at the boundaries of their trust in one another. Harry could push him further under the stream and Louis is quite certain that it’d be on the wrong side of painful against his barely clothed dick, or Harry could instead choose to pull him back at the last minute and navigate them to calmer waters.

Whichever option Harry goes with will be fine, Louis is enjoying the whole gliding-around thing and would happily continue down that path, but he’s also not opposed to chasing him around the pool and dunking him if he opts for the other alternative. 

Louis feels Harry firm up the grip he has under his back, pausing, as the water continues to splash just below his groin. He wonders for a moment what Harry is looking at. Is he staring at his dick? His chest? Maybe his face? Time is suspended as Louis waits. Then, slowly, imperceptibly even, Harry pulls him away, the pounding water retreating back down his legs until he’s clear of the waterfall once again. Louis smiles and breathes out, relaxing his balled fists that he hadn’t realised he was clenching. 

A loud shout followed by the thudding sound of something hitting the water startles Louis from his watery cocoon. He expects a wave to wash over him so he scrunches his face and holds his breath, but instead, he’s being scooped up and out of the water bridal-style, gravity weighing him down once more. He opens his eyes and finds Harry staring down at him, smiling and squinting in the harsh sunshine.

“Sorry, didn’t want you to swallow half the pool,” Harry says by way of explanation.

“Thanks, Haz,” Louis murmurs as another loud shriek comes from behind him and he cranes his neck to find Bec and Alyssa splashing about. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

“It’s okay, we’ll just wait until tonight and then turn the Sanctuary’s hot tub into a sensory deprivation float tank.” Harry smirks and lets Louis go, his feet finding purchase on the mosaic-tiled floor.

“Mmmmm… sounds good.” And it does, is the thing. He’s suddenly overcome with the need for it to be just them, just him and Harry, on some tropical island far away from people and cameras and prying eyes. He doesn’t want to share Harry or have to be bothered with playing some game.

“Y’alright, Lou?”

“What?” Louis forces himself to snap out of his reverie. “Oh yeah, just thinking.” 

“Penny for them?”

“Nothing. It’s silly. I’m gonna… go and lay down in the sun for a bit, get some rays.”

“Oh… okay.” Harry looks a bit sad, which is unacceptable but then his expression changes into something more hopeful and that’s better. “You want me to sunscreen your back?” Harry asks cheekily and if Louis was a stronger man he’d say no, but he isn’t, so he nods instead. “Yeah, thanks, that'd be great.”

They wade over to the side and push themselves up, Louis unable to look away as Harry’s muscles strain and bulge, rivulets of water winding their way along the creases and crevices of his toned body. He’s in so deep already it’s absurd.

They dry off and put their mic packs back on, picking a couple of lounge chairs part in shade and part in the sun. Harry retrieves a bottle of sunscreen from the stash in the gym and a couple of throw cushions from the living room as Louis gets them some bottles of cold water from the fridge. Frieda and Grant are laid out next to them on the sunbed chatting away and they join in with the conversation here and there as they lather themselves up.

“Ready?” Harry asks, sunscreen bottle in his slippery hands.

“Yeah, thanks,” Louis says as he turns, rubbing the last of the liquid into his forearms.

He hears Harry squirt some out onto his hands, squelching as he rubs them together. Harry splays his hands out on Louis’ back, tentatively at first, making wide sweeping circles with his palms. He runs his hands up over Louis’ shoulders and across the nape of his neck, then down his spine and out to his sides. Louis flinches a little as Harry skits his fingers between his ribs.

“You ticklish, Tomlinson?”

“Don’t get any ideas,  _ Styles _ . I’m gonna do you next.”

“Promises, promises…” Harry says wistfully and finishes slicking Louis up.

Louis turns and takes the bottle, starting on Harry as Bec props her chin up on the side of the pool. “Oh for god's sake, just get a room already.”

“They  _ are...  _ Bec,” Alyssa adds most unhelpfully, from beside her. “They’re gonna be all alone in the Sanctuary for their romantic getaway tonight. How lovely.” 

Louis flips them off with his free hand and they giggle before pushing off and swimming away. As Louis finishes smoothing the cream over Harry’s broad back, he tries not to let his mind wander too much to this evening, but he quickly acknowledges he’s fighting a losing battle. Harry’s muscles tense and release under his fingertips, the sun glistening on the mixture of sweat and sunscreen, a heady coconut aroma wafting up into his nostrils. He loses himself in the swirling patterns he creates, drawing circles that loop around his protruding shoulder blades, lines that follow the knobs of his spine and ribs as though he’s painting on the most beautiful canvas.

Louis lets his mind wander and considers for a moment how he and Harry could be being perceived, both in and outside of the house. Their closeness isn’t a strategically smart move, by any means, and will surely make Louis a target in the weeks to come. It’s just so damn hard to drag himself away from Harry and even though they’re no longer physically shackled together, his brain doesn’t appear to have received the memo.

“I think I’m good now, Lou.” Harry’s voice bringing him back to the present. Louis watches his hands gently caressing Harry’s skin like they’re not under his control. 

“Shit. Sorry,” Louis says, pulling his hands away as though they’ve been burned. “Zoned out for a bit there.”

Harry turns and his brows are furrowed adorably in concern. “Maybe you need to go inside and out of the sun for a bit, yeah?”

Louis flicks Harry’s nipple making him squawk and cover the puffy bud with his fingertips, so Louis goes for the other one, then the two smaller ones below. It’s like a game of whack-a-mole because Harry can’t cover them all at the same time and it has Louis in fits of giggles. Harry eventually grabs ahold of Louis’ wrists and spins him around in his arms, back to chest, sunscreen and sweat making a tacky mixture between their heated skin.

“Gross,” Louis whines and wriggles feigning an attempt to get away even though it’s the last thing he wants to do.

Harry leans down and whispers into Louis’ ear, voice dropping in pitch. “You don’t think it’s gross, you love it.”

A surge of arousal shoots through Louis’ bloodstream at Harry seeing right through him. Damn it. He needs to get away from him, suddenly feeling like he’s drowning. His eyes glance over to the gym and he spies Blake, Grant, and Dylan working out. “I’m gonna go… over there for a bit,” he says and motions toward the gym with a nod of his head.

“Oh… oh, okay, you alright?” Harry asks as he lets his arms relax enough for Louis to untangle himself from his grip.

Louis turns and smiles as he backs away. “Yup! Just fancy a bit of exercise. Gonna go bond with the boys.”

“But I’m one of the boys too,” Harry huffs out indignantly.

“Of course you are, Harold.” Louis says as he reaches the side of the pool, and dips his toes into the cool water, kicking his leg up and splashing water all over Harry.”

“Heeeeey,” Harry whines but he has a smile on his face and it’s all kinds of endearing. Louis grins like a fool and yeah, he really needs to put some space between them. Now, preferably.

~~~~

Louis hates working out. Hates it with a passion. He knows at a base level that exercise is necessary for a healthy body and mind and he enjoys working up a sweat playing footie or going for a run, but pumping weights surrounded by full-length mirrors has just never appealed to him. However, that was before he discovered that he could use the mirrors to ogle people without getting busted. How he’s not worked this out before is a mystery for the ages.

Harry’s been roped into a game of volleyball or perhaps he was the instigator, it’s hard to tell, but there he is nonetheless in the sandpit with Bec, Alyssa, Cara, as well as Dylan and Grant after they’d had enough of the gym. Harry’s still wearing his tiny pink swim trunks that’s he’s hiked up to the tops of his thighs, Ray Bans, and a black snapback backwards on his head, and he looks like a delectable mix of frat boy and sweetness and Louis is going to fucking combust. He’s all long limbs and taut muscles and tanned skin and armpits Louis wants to bury his nose in for some ridiculously disgusting reason that he can’t quite fathom. 

“You and Harry seem to be getting along well?” Blake prods, breaking Louis from his gaze and it’s not in the least bit subtle.

Louis tries to regain some composure, straightening his shoulders and doing another bicep curl. “Yeah, I guess so, he’s a good guy. Plus, we were kinda forced together, you know? Hard to not get to know someone under those circumstances.”

“Can’t wait to see you guys up against each other in the challenges, you’re gonna be beasts… so much determination.”

And well, shit. 

Blake’s right, of course, he and Harry are both fierce competitors and will no doubt give every challenge their all, but he hadn’t fully acknowledged what that could imply for their standing in the house. While it can work in their favour for the joint challenges where they’re playing as a whole-of-house team, Louis has been around long enough to know that it’ll also make it more difficult for them and paint massive targets on their backs.

Louis’ train of thought comes to a screeching halt. When did he start looking at himself and Harry as a  _ them _ ? They’re not in this as a team, they’re here to win. Individually. He really needs to get his head in the game.

“Yeah. Should be a good laugh,” Louis replies and then shifts the focus to Blake. “Reckon you’ll be a massive asset to the team too, we should definitely nail the luxury food budget challenges.”

Blake smiles widely and holds his fist out for Louis which he bumps. “Thanks, man. Yeah, I’m excited to get into it. When do you think the first team challenge will be?”

Louis hears Harry’s gleeful shouts and lets his eyes drift back momentarily to see him and Bec high-fiving. “Uhm… probably the day after tomorrow,” he says and decides to turn away from the mirrors so he won't be distracted by hot frat-boy-look-a-likes anymore. “I think they’re airing shows each day with Monday to Thursday as regular shows, Friday set aside for a weekly wrap-up, Saturday for the After Dark show, and then the live eviction on Sunday. So I’m guessing they’ll get the footage for the food challenge on Wednesday and then air it on Thursday.”

“Wow… you really know a lot about this,” Blake says and regards him carefully. Louis really needs to shut the fuck up. Every time he opens his mouth he’s giving Blake more and more nomination fodder.

“Yeah, well, just from what I’ve seen, but who knows, could be any time,” Louis says and sets his dumbbells down on the rack. “I think that’s me about done for now.”

“Did you wanna spot me for a bit?” Blake asks and Louis groans internally. No, he absolutely does not want to spot him, he wants to go and drool over Harry some more. Maybe he can sit in the kitchen with his sunnies on and no one will know who he’s staring at. Yeah, that’s a good plan, solid.

“This… is Big Brother. Louis to the Diary Room,” Big Brother bellows out over the yard.

“Looks like you’re saved by the bell,” Blake says wryly.

Louis shrugs as he walks away. “Sorry mate! Next time for sure.” Like when hell freezes over, he finishes in his head.

He wanders past the pool and volleyball area to hoots and catcalls from the other housemates. He doesn’t miss Harry’s intense gaze on him as he goes past either and he sways his hips just a little bit more because Louis is a bloody tease and frat boy deserves it anyway. 

Louis heads through the living room and presses on the button to gain entry to the Diary Room, the door sliding open to reveal the golden throne inside.

“Hello, Louis,” Big Brother says.

“Hello there,” Louis chirps happily.

“Are you ready for your night in The Sanctuary with Harry?”

Louis grins mischievously. He knows these Diary Room sessions are key pieces footage used by the producers and can really shape how the audience sees him so he tries to deflect the focus off him and Harry as a pair. “Ready for the gourmet food and not being chained to another person while I sleep, yeah.”

“And the hot tub and massages?”

“Mmmmm… love a good soak. Maybe I’ll just sleep in there, stay until I’m all pruney.”

“Perhaps you can make use of the massage table… Harry can work on those glutes for you with those, what did you call them again? Big paws, was it?”

Fuck. He’d forgotten about his quips to Harry when he was trying to rile him up. Louis chuckles and tries to regain the upper hand. “Yeah, yeah. They’ve gotta be good for something. Reckon the hot tub will do the trick on its own though.” It’s a lie, of course. He wants nothing more than to feel Harry’s hands on his arse, kneading his cheeks, spreading him apart…

“On the table beside you is the key to The Sanctuary,” Big Brother says as Louis looks to his left and sees a ridiculously large golden key, picking it up turning back to face the one-way mirror on the wall. “You enter back through the same door you came in last night whenever you choose and will stay until after breakfast tomorrow morning. The cameras will film you until dinner and then again from breakfast but the rest of the night you’ll have to yourselves.”

Louis can clearly hear the smirk in Big Brother’s deep voice but he’s not going to rise to the bait. “Sounds brilliant! Have we got board games and stuff to keep us occupied? I think Harold is partial to a spot of Scrabble.”

“We can definitely arrange that… for when you get bored.”

It’s becoming patently obvious that they’re pushing the narrative of him and Harry as a couple for the audience, so they’re definitely going to need to watch themselves. Louis is going to need to shift this to a bromance rather than romance in a hurry. “Ohhhh and if we could sneak in a few action movies that’d be awesome, maybe a disaster movie or two? And some extra pillows so we can build a proper fort between us for when Harry decides to go all octopus limbs on me in his sleep! Thought he was gonna crush me to death last night,” Louis says with a hearty laugh and he just hopes this is coming across okay.

“That can all be sorted.”

“Awesome! Thanks, Big Brother.” Louis gives a double thumbs up accompanied by his most winning smile and he swears he hears Big Brother sigh. Good.

“You’re free to go and pack and collect Harry whenever you’re ready.”

“No time like the present!” Louis says as he stands, shaking the key in front of him on its chain. He leaves the room and maintains his facade as he heads down the hallway to find Harry. Only a few more hours and he’ll be able to let his guard down. No cameras. No microphones. Just him and Harry. Excitement courses through his veins at the thought of being truly alone with him for the first time. 

“Lou?”

Louis stops at the sound of Harry’s voice coming from behind him and turns. He’s standing at the doorway to the bedroom, sun-kissed skin glowing in the artificial light. God. How does he look so good all the time?

“Hey, Haz,” Louis says and waves the key in front of him, a broad smile beaming on Harry’s face.

“Yes!” Harry shouts and slaps his hand against the doorframe. “Come on, hurry up and get your things, I’m already packed.”

Louis giggles. “Eager much, Harold?”

“Two words, Lou... Hot. Tub.”

Louis saunters up to him and pokes him in the chest. “You’re an idiot, you know that, right? It’s hotter than the surface of the sun out there and you,” he prods him again, “wanna sit and slow boil in a great big pot like a bloody lobster.”

“We get to drink champagne while we’re cooking though…” Harry says with a smirk and Louis shakes his head, trying desperately to keep the fond from his expression and failing dismally.

“Fine,” Louis huffs, adding an eye roll for good measure. “Lemme get my stuff.”

Harry hands Louis an empty Big Brother tote and steps aside to let him through, patting him playfully on the arse as he passes, which makes Louis grin to himself. He grabs the few things he’ll need for their night away and retrieves his toiletries bag and toothbrush from the bathroom. When he comes back out Harry is leaning up against the wall with his own branded tote casually slung over his shoulder.

“Ready?” Harry asks as he pushes off the wall.

“Yup! Let’s get outta here.”

They stride through the empty living room and out across the yard earning a few  _ whoops _ and  _ cheers _ from their fellow housemates. They’re all being suitably excited for them but the underlying jealousy and calculated smiles are still evident. Not that there’s anything Louis can do to address this now, it’ll have to be tomorrow’s problem. Tonight, he’s just going to enjoy his time with Harry and see where it leads. He definitely knows where he  _ wants _ it to lead, he’s just not certain that Harry’s on the same page. Or maybe he is, but won’t want to take it anywhere while they’re inside the house. Louis just hopes that this entire thing hasn’t been an elaborate ruse, an act for the cameras and other housemates and that when they’re not being watched Harry will flick a switch and turn into some kind of asshole. Louis isn’t sure he could take that.

They reach the door to the tunnel and it swings open automatically, smoke billowing out for effect, which is all sorts of cheesy but still makes Harry giggle happily so it isn’t all bad. They wander inside and follow a sign that points to the right and down the corridor. At the end, Louis can see a large door, bathed in natural light from above and it’s all feeling a bit Alice In Wonderland.

“Should we keep an eye out for the White Rabbit?” Louis asks, bumping shoulders with Harry.

Harry chuckles and bumps him back. “I keep waiting for the door to get smaller the closer we get.”

As they reach the end of the corridor they find themselves back out in the open once more, fake grass underfoot and a doorknob with a cartoonishly-huge keyhole underneath. “Here we go, Alice…” Louis trails off as he slots the ridiculous key into the lock and turns it.

Hary gasps beside him as the door opens to reveal an oasis; tranquil music filtering out, comfortable-looking lounge chairs under an awning leading off from a studio, like one of those build-a-cabin things that are always being advertised on D.I.Y shows. In the corner though is where his gaze is drawn; a massive hot tub, bubbling away, with a bottle of champagne sat in a high-hat, chilling to the side. It’s all very opulent but also strangely quaint.

Louis loves it.


	4. Alone Time

Harry closes the door behind them and lets his eyes roam around The Sanctuary. It’s perfect; big enough to not feel hemmed in, small enough that it’s cozy. The voices of the other housemates can just be heard in the distance over water pulsing in the hot tub. 

The hot tub.

Goddamnit. He wants to drag Louis over, throw him in, and fucking devour him. It’s been less than twenty-four hours and yet Harry is about ready to vibrate out of his skin; the attraction he feels towards him barely controllable at this point. Louis is like a magnet, drawing Harry in helplessly, and he’s unable to resist and unwilling to try. Harry knows he should be more guarded, he gets how these shows work, and he needs to protect himself and his chances of staying to the end, but it’s so hard to reign it in when Louis is just there, smiling and being gorgeous and funny and sweet and all manner of irresistible. 

Harry is pretty sure Louis feels the same, the looks and small touches, come-hither glances with bedroom eyes, flushed cheeks, and flicks of his fringe all indicating he’s in the same boat. Of course, it could all be an act, and Harry will end up looking the fool, but at this point, it’s almost worth the fall if the high is like this. He really hopes his instincts are right though.

His mind is still reeling from that interlude in the pool. What even  _ was _ that? The trust and push and pull between them had been electric. If Harry hadn’t been submerged in cold water, he definitely wouldn’t have been able to hide his arousal. As it was, he’s fairly certain Louis knew what was transpiring between them. Harry’s never had a good poker face and after spending eighteen hours tied to the man, any pretence of mystery on Harry’s part has definitely gone out the window.

“Earth to Harold...” Louis waves his hand in front of Harry’s face freeing him from his internal turmoil.

Harry startles and smiles. “Mmmmm…?”

Louis thumbs over his shoulder. “Fancy a splash in the hot tub?” 

He absolutely does, but he’d also like to save it until after the cameras are off, unsure of whether he’ll be able to restrain himself from doing things that are very much unsuitable for family viewing. “Maybe later? After dinner? Could do with a shower actually… got a bit too much sun today I think.”

Louis looks him over, brows knitting together in concern when he presumably finds no hint of sunburn. It’s a woeful lie, but he hopes Louis doesn’t call him on it. “Yeah... Yeah, good call, indoor activities it is then. Come on,” he says with a grin and a nod as he starts to back away and under the awning off the studio. “Let’s see if Big Brother delivered on his promise to stock The Sanctuary with board games for me to beat you at.”

Harry fish-mouths but recovers quickly, squaring his shoulders and glaring menacingly at Louis as he stalks toward him. “How very  _ dare _ you! I am the King of board games.”

Louis cackles and scurries inside, Harry following closely behind. Louis shouts in triumph when he finds a pile of boxes on the coffee table.

Louis spins around, brandishing a large Scrabble box in his hands. “Talk’s cheap, Haz. You’ll have to show me what you’re made of.” 

“Oh, Lou. Of all the board games…” Harry trails off and shakes his head, unable to keep the smug expression off his face. “Honestly, you couldn’t have picked a worse game. I’m the reigning Styles Family Champion, which is something we take  _ very _ seriously.”

Louis comes closer and holds the box between them, the edges prodding into their chests. “You don’t scare me, Styles. It’s all just big-talk bullshit bravado,” Louis purrs looking up at Harry from under his eyelashes and Harry is going to fucking combust. Louis is stunningly beautiful all the time, but right now, standing there all puffed up and challenging Harry at a game of Scrabble, of all things, he’s never looked more gorgeous. Harry needs to retreat before he does something he’ll regret.

“Guess we’ll see, won’t we,” Harry says as he walks away, trying to maintain at least the appearance that he’s got it together. “Anyway… I’m gonna go and have a shower and then I’ll whip your arse.”

“Promises, promises…” Louis says mimicking Harry’s comment from earlier. It sends a zing up Harry’s spine and he stumbles on thin air, earning a chuckle from Louis as he goes. Perhaps he should make that a cold shower instead.

~~~~

Harry cuts another slice of his baked salmon, skewers a piece of asparagus, and dips it into the creamy dill sauce. He brings the forkful to his mouth and saviours the delicious flavours. Now if he could just wipe this bloody pout off his face he’d be golden.

“You know, I didn’t peg you for being such a sore loser,” Louis says, breaking the silence.

Harry drops his cutlery with a clatter. “Louis. We’ve literally flown to the other side of the world to appear on a reality TV show where we compete against a house full of other people for a million-dollar prize. Exactly what would make you think I wouldn’t be competitive?!”

Louis just sits and stares at him as Harry glares right back. A beat passes, then another. Harry can see the twinkle in Louis’ eyes, the twitch of his pink bottom lip, breath held in tight, hands gripping his knife and fork.

It’s Harry that ends up breaking first. Hanging his head to hide his smile, chest stuttering as he tries to hold back his laughter. He fails dismally, a honking laugh bursting out of his mouth before he can stop it. He throws his head back and lets out a full-throated laugh, bringing his hands up to scrub over his face.

Louis starts to cackle. “Oh. My god. You looked like you were going to explode!”

“You’re the most infuriating man I’ve  _ ever _ met!”

“Nah. You think I’m awesome.”

Harry pushes his plate away as he regains his composure. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right,” he says with a shrug.

“Haven’t you worked it out yet? I’m  _ always _ right, Harold.”

“I’m going to smother you in your sleep.”

Louis giggles and motions toward the tray. “You want dessert?”

“Don’t think I could eat anything else, if I’m being honest.”

“Same,” Louis agrees. “Wanna finish up and go soak in the hot tub for a bit? Crack open that bottle of champers and wash down our meal?”

Harry nods, images starting to reappear in his head of all the things he hopes will transpire when the cameras are off. “You read my mind.” At least he hopes Louis can read his mind. The smirk spreading across Louis’ face gives him a fair indication that they’re both on the same path.

They load up the tray and take off their mic packs, sliding the whole thing into the hatch.

“Night Big Brother!” Harry shouts into the darkened hatch.

“Goodnight, boys. You’re on your own now. No cameras and no microphones. Enjoy yourselves,” Big Brother says through the speakers in the ceiling.

“We will,” Louis says with a smirk and closes the hatch.

And then they’re alone. Well, technically the production crew is probably still watching them through the one-way mirrors, and they may well be filming, but none of it will ever see the light of day and that’s good enough for Harry.

The lights in the studio and yard dim, enough for them to still see clearly, but they’re no longer harsh, now just illuminating the spaces with a soft glow.

“Swimmers?” Harry queries.

“Boxers? Might be more comfortable.”

“Mmmm… yeah, good call.”

They both strip off their clothes and neither of them even attempt to avert their gaze. The air is charged, tension palpable in the balmy evening as they wander out to the hot tub, still bubbling away enticingly, blue lights shining up from the bottom. Harry climbs in as Louis pops the top off the bottle of champagne, handing Harry the two glasses and pouring them both a tall drink, liquid fizzing over the rim and into the water until it settles. Louis climbs in, thigh muscles and abs pulling taut as he moves. Harry wants to lick him all over.

They clink glasses wordlessly, eyes fixed on each other as they raise them up in salute before both taking a sip. It’s sharp, and not exactly the best quality, but it’s champagne so it’s hard to go too wrong. 

Louis settles into the seat as the water surges around him. “Fuck this feels nice,” he says and lets out a long sigh, tilting his head back and letting it rest on the cushioned neck support.

Harry allows his hungry eyes to travel over Louis’ chest and arms, tattoos slick and inviting, neck elongated, begging to be bitten and kissed. He suddenly conscious of them being alone but also probably being watched. His skin prickles. It’s bizarrely thrilling. He’s never been much of an exhibitionist, but perhaps he’s more open to it than he thought, or maybe he just doesn’t care. “Do you think they’re watching?”

Louis doesn’t lift his head, just lolls it to the side to meet Harry’s eyes. “Probably. Maybe? I would be if I were them.”

“Yeah?” Harry lets his free hand float in the water, the foam tickling his fingers as he stretches out his long legs, nudging Louis’ ankle. “You a bit of a voyeur, Lou? A Peeping Tommo?” Harry chuckles at his lame joke.

“That... was terrible,” Louis deadpans but his eyes crinkle with mirth and Harry will take that as a win. “But yeah, I’d peep... if you were the eye candy.”

Harry grins. Definitely on the same page then. Excellent. “Mmmm… reckon I’d be the same if it were you. Wouldn’t be able to drag my eyes away.”

The corner of Louis’ mouth tugs up in a small, self-satisfied smirk. “Does it bother you? Thinking that there might be people behind those mirrors, watching us… right now?”

It does bother Harry a bit, if only because he wants Louis all to himself, but not enough to put the brakes on whatever is about to happen; a team of wild horses couldn’t stop him at this point. “Not really. I mean… this is what we signed up for right? Being watched like a bunch of lab rats. That’s the gig.”

“True, true. But maybe I can give us a bit more… privacy,” Louis says and reaches over to the control panel, pressing one of the buttons and plunging the tub into darkness while the jets continue to churn the water around them. The only light now is from a few low-lying garden torches dotted at the perimeter of the yard and a small amount filtering out from the studios. It’s just them, the stars, and the hum of the tub.

“Nice work, Lou,” Harry says and takes a sip of champagne but doesn’t look away, couldn't even if he wanted to. Louis’ gaze is so intense and Harry feels a thrum in his veins, arousal shooting through him. His eyes trace the features of Louis’ face; sharp cheekbones, thin lips, strong jawline. Harry wants to get his mouth on all of it, all of him, everything, wants to taste him, feel his scruff on his cheeks, his pulse under his tongue, wants to be consumed by him.

Even though Harry’s almost certain Louis wants him too, he doesn’t want to be the first one to make a move, although he doubts he’ll have to, not with the way Louis is trying to devour him with his eyes. The steam from the hot tub rises up but the heat Harry is feeling is definitely coming from within, the burning need to touch and be touched is surging up inside of him, desperate to be satisfied.

Louis raises the glass to his mouth and downs the rest of the contents, licking his lips seductively as he leans over blindly for the bottle, smiling when his fingers wrap around the neck. “More champagne, Haz?”

Harry throws the half-full glass back and gulps it down, the fizz dancing up the back of his throat and into his nose making his eyes water. “Sure, fill’er up,” he says holding out his empty glass.

Louis’ eyes narrow, hooded lids and a small smile indicating a mischievous intent. He uses his elbow to push himself off the side and slides himself around next to Harry, arms out of the water holding his glass and the half-empty bottle. The water sloshes around them as Louis refills his glass and then Harry’s, bubbles spilling over and onto their hands.

Louis goes to move away, but Harry doesn’t want him to, not now that he’s close enough to touch. He can’t stop himself from reaching out, grabbing for Louis’ knee under the water with his free hand. Louis stills and the moment hangs suspended between them, eyes seeking answers, looking for the assurances they both need.

“Yeah?” Louis rasps out.

Harry gives a single nod of his head. “Yeah.”

Louis sets the bottle on the side of the tub and turns sideways on the seat to face him. Harry mirrors his position and their shins press together under the water as they both take large mouthfuls of champagne before resting their elbows on the edge, glasses held between their fingers.

The first caress of Louis’ hand on his thigh is gentle but sure, palm sliding up to the edge of the material of his boxer briefs. Harry feels his heart rate increase as he matches Louis’ action, feeling the warmth of his skin under his hand. Their eyes are locked on each other, desire and intent now crystal clear.

Having been physically tied together for almost a day, including spending the previous night wrapped in each other’s arms, should mean this level of closeness is nothing special, but this is different, more charged, more intimate. It’s leading somewhere this time and Harry is keenly aware of that.

Harry moves first this time, fingers dipping under the hem of Louis’ boxers, the fine hairs on his upper thigh giving way to the coarser hair on his groin. Louis follows, making space for his hand inside Harry’s briefs, enough to palm his balls and the base of Harry’s rapidly hardening cock.

Harry sucks in a sharp breath and bites down on his lower lip, swallowing a moan that threatens to escape. Up this close, he can watch Louis’ pupils dilate as Harry wraps his fingers around his shaft. He’s not fully hard yet, but well on his way, chest stuttering as he sucks air into his lungs.

“ _ Fuck _ , Haz…” Louis whispers, clearly just as affected as Harry.

Harry lets go of his champagne glass and plunges his now freed hand into the water, lifting his bum up just enough to pull his briefs down to his thighs, giving Louis better access. Louis grins and follows suit.

Their actions are like a choreographed dance, each man moving in tandem with other, one taking the lead, then switching. 

To anyone watching, it’s fairly obvious what they’re doing, but the implication of the act and substantive proof of the act are two very different things. Unless they’ve got cameras under the water in the hot tub - which Harry prays they don’t - they’re safe, but that doesn’t stop the thrill of what they’re doing zipping around Harry’s body.

Louis firms up his grip and starts pulling Harry off with purpose, licking his lips and huffing out little breaths as Harry matches his movements. 

“God,  _ Lou… _ ” Harry hisses out through gritted teeth as he tries desperately to control himself. He wants to lean in and seal their lips together, but he knows he can’t. It’s infuriating and deliciously intoxicating in the best possible way. 

Louis rolls Harry’s balls in his other hand, gentle tugs alternating with pressure on his taint. Harry slides his fingers down under Louis balls and teases at his rim. There’s no intent behind it, not this time, but the mere hint of a possibility has Louis’ eyes going wide and gripping Harry tighter, thumb sliding over his slit and then back to rub the sensitive ridge under the head.

Harry doubles his efforts, knowing that neither of them is going to last with how worked up they are. He circles his thumb and forefinger around the crown of Louis’ cock, twisting his wrist again and again as he holds the tip of his index finger against Louis’ hole, keeping the pressure consistent, but not pushing inside.

Louis grunts and bites back a moan and then he’s coming, neck flushed, mouth agape, eyelids fluttering, and it’s the single most gorgeous thing Harry has ever seen. The sight of Louis coming and a final tug on his balls is all Harry needs to follow Louis over into the abyss. A warmth floods through his body as he spills over Louis’ fist and into the swirling water. He wants to cry out, wants to reach for Louis and kiss him senseless, but he knows they need to keep their cool while they’re out here. The priority now is to get Louis into bed and under the covers so he can devour his sinful mouth for the next few hours.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” Harry pants out, keeping up appearances as they stroke each other through the aftershocks of their orgasms. “Lots of uhm... stars.”

“Mhmmm… stars.” Louis murmurs.

“Sleepy?”

“Exhausted,” Louis breathes out with a soft chuckle.

“Bedtime then?”

Louis smirks and gives Harry’s cock a final squeeze before letting it go. “You read my mind, Harold.”

Harry pulls his boxers back up and tucks himself inside as Louis shifts around, presumably doing the same. “Ready?” Harry asks as he stands, Louis nodding as he gets to his feet, broad smile on his face.

Harry’s legs are like jelly and Louis must be feeling it too because they both take it slowly, Harry going first and offering Louis his hand to grasp as he climbs out.

Louis shuts off the tub as Harry grabs the bottle and glasses, making their way under the awning and toweling off before heading inside. The air conditioning is churning out a cool stream of air in the quiet room as they both change into dry boxers and clean their teeth.

Louis turns out the lights and they crawl into the ridiculous heart-shaped bed from opposite sides and lay on their backs, hands steepled on their respective stomachs. Harry stares up at the mirrored ceiling as a sense of awkwardness descends. How did they go from jerking each other off to this in less than five minutes?

He feels the bed start to vibrate and for a fleeting moment he thinks it’s one of those kitsch beds from the seventies that he’s seen in movies, like the coin operated ones that used to be in tacky honeymoon suites in Vegas. The accompanying giggles that bubble from Louis’ mouth put paid to that idea though and Harry turns on his side to find Louis with his hands over his mouth attempting to stem the tide of laughter and failing miserably.

Harry can’t help but join in and he chuckles as he face plants into Louis’ shoulder.

“Like… what the hell were they thinking?” Louis manages to get out as he calms his breathing. “Do they really think housemates are just gonna go for it and fuck each other while checking themselves out in the mirror?”

Harry groans into Louis’ skin, it’s warm and damp from Harry’s breath and he smells like a summer's day. “I dunno, Lou… Maybe?”

“Well, they’re idiots. Plus! This bed is a dumb shape, unless you’re on top of each other your feet and going to hang off the end. Why would anyone design a bed like this? It’s completely impractical.”

Louis’ voice is rising in pitch with every word and Harry lifts his head to try and ascertain what’s wrong, propping himself up on his elbow, but Louis isn’t done yet.

“And! Silk sheets? Really?” Louis flings his hands about animatedly and nearly smacks Harry in the face. “Whoever invented silk sheets is a moron. Any sudden movement and you’ll be careening off the bed and onto the floor!” He finishes hysterically.

Harry reaches down for the duvet and brings it up over their heads, cocooning them inside. “You ‘bout done freaking out?”

Louis lets out a long sigh. “Maybe.”

“What’s going on, Lou?”

“Nothing,” Louis grumbles and Harry can sense the pout on his lips even though he can’t see it.

“Hey,” Harry says and reaches out into the darkness to cup Louis’ jaw, turning his head towards him, their breaths mingling in the confined space. “It’s alright.”

“Is it?”

Harry pushes his fingers up into Louis’ hair and tucks some wayward strands behind his ear. “Yeah. We’re good. I really like you, Lou,” Harry whispers, hopeful that Louis can hear the smile in his voice. “I think you’re all kinds of amazing actually.”

Louis brings his hand up to grip Harry’s arm, fingers trembling. “Yeah? So this is real? Us, I mean. Not just some sort of make-believe for the show?”

“Yeah, it’s real. For me anyways, hopefully for you too?” Harry feels the butterflies take flight in his stomach Louis nods his head, giving him the confidence to continue. “You’re funny and smart and kind and so fucking hot I can barely control myself around you, Lou.”

Louis stutters out a breath and tightens his hold on Harry’s bicep. “You’re not so bad yourself, Styles. And for the record... I like you a lot too.”

Harry leans down, lips so close he can practically taste the toothpaste on Louis’ breath. “Can I kiss you?”

Louis slides his hand up to cradle the nape of Harry’s neck and threads his fingers into his hair. “Please…”

Harry closes the distance and seals their lips together. It’s soft and passionate and it’s everything Harry had imagined and so much more. Louis kisses with his whole body, hands roaming everywhere, breaths mingling, and legs tangling together until Harry can’t tell where he ends and Louis begins. They fit so well together, mind, body, and soul.

Languid kisses turn into heated snogs and then back into gentle and chaste pecks, nips and sucks on their necks and jawlines, taking care not to leave marks as evidence of their night together.

It’s nice, just kissing and having no desire to take it any further somehow makes it more intimate.

Their kisses and caresses become interspersed with yawns and Harry eventually gives in and turns over in Louis arms, sleepy and sated and utterly satisfied. “Night, Lou.”

“Night, Haz.”


	5. Noms

To describe the next few days in the house as difficult would be a serious understatement. He avoids Harry like his life depends on it, sure that one lingering glance is all it will take to see through his flimsy facade. When he can’t avoid him, Louis has to actively stop himself from reaching out for Harry every time he’s within arm’s length, which, given their current confinement in the house, is most of the time.

But really, it’s more than that. It’s as though there’s a gravitational pull between them drawing them together like some cosmic force that has their very beings locked onto each other. They both try to stay apart during the day for the sake of sheer self-preservation and to ensure the well-founded suspicions of the other housemates don’t intensify, but it’s really fucking difficult. Their sleeping arrangements certainly aren’t helping Louis’ sanity as he wakes up each morning, limbs intertwined with Harry’s, and a heavy sense of loss in his bones when he has to extract himself from his warm embrace.

Adding kerosene to the trash bin fire that is his life at present is his dick’s response to even the merest suggestion of physical contact with Harry. Louis has had his fair share of action over the years and has never exactly been the shy retiring type, but apparently, his penis didn’t get the goddamn memo and has decided to perk up every time Harry so much as breaths in his general direction like he’s a bloody teenager. It’s inconvenient and embarrassing and all kinds of problematic and as a result, he’s basically been half-hard since they left The Sanctuary.

Louis pushes himself up on the sidebars of the treadmill and plants his feet on the runners, shutting off the program and letting the belt come to a stop as his breathing calms. He takes a long swig from his water bottle and wipes the sweat from his brow using the bottom of his tank top. In an attempt to avoid the constant boners he’s been spending more time in the gym, with Blake becoming his unwitting buffer; always up for a session and eager to show Louis new sets and techniques but Louis is rapidly going out of his mind.

The producers have also been supremely unhelpful in Louis’ quest to tamp down his and Harry’s perceived coupling by calling them to the Diary Room together at regular intervals and assigning them tasks to complete. He can only imagine how they’re portraying this to the audience.

Their performance in the luxury food budget challenge had been a raging success but drew even more attention to them. As suspected, the challenge involved answering a series of questions about the partner they’d been tied to. Louis’ competitive nature, his desire to earn as much as possible for the budget, his pre-game research, and the fact that he and Harry actually  _ did _ get to know each other really well during the time they were tethered together and then in The Sanctuary, had resulted in them nailing almost every question. 

He spies Harry in the kitchen on the other side of the yard as though his traitorous brain is designed to automatically zone in on him. Harry has been spending his time away from Louis hanging out in the kitchen cooking with Freida and Grant, who have become fast friends and odd bedfellows, literally. Their friendship is unexpected but Harry is convinced they’re a perfect match and Louis is enjoying seeing him encourage them gently at every opportunity.

Louis is about to head inside and grab his swimmers when the siren sounds and lights start flashing above the living room indicating that an announcement is about to be made. The housemates all come out into the yard and congregate at the entrance, expectant looks on their faces.

_ “This… is Big Brother. All housemates to the Diary Room.” _

Bec and Alyssa race off through the house as everyone else follows behind. Louis catches Harry’s eye and raises a brow. Harry grins back at him mouthing  _ noms _ and Louis nods. Shit. He’s been expecting this but still, it’s nerve-wracking. They all file into the Diary Room and shuffle around until they find a spot to stand or sit, Louis purposefully choosing the opposite side to Harry.

_ “Hello, housemates.” _

“Hi, Big Brother,” they all say in unison.

_ “Tonight will be your first nominations. In an hour you will all be called to go to the Nominations Room. Inside is a soundproof glass booth where you will deliver your nominations while the other housemates watch on. You will have five points each to allocate. You can choose to assign all points to one housemate, or split your points across multiple housemates; the choice is yours. As the winners of the challenge, Harry and Louis have this week’s nominations advantage and will choose one housemate each, cancelling out that housemates nominations. Remember… nominations are confidential are not to be discussed at any time whilst you are in the house. Are we clear?” _

“Yes, Big Brother,” the housemates reply.

The door to the Diary Room swings open, effectively ending their session and everyone spills out in the hallway chattering excitedly. Bec, Alyssa, and Cara make a beeline for the bedroom already running through options for what they’re going to wear. Aside from eviction night, nominations is the other major event for the week and it’s no surprise that they’re keen to dress for the occasion. 

Louis tries to stay out of everyone’s way as they all flit in and out between the bedroom and bathroom, hair straighteners sizzling away and blowers drowning out the music Big Brother has provided to get them all hyped.

Louis wanders into the bathroom and showers before managing to secure a sink and a portion of the mirror so he can shave. To his side, he notes that Harry has become wrapped up with the girls, primping and preening and polishing themselves in readiness and Louis can’t help but smile at how much fun he seems to be having.

His mind is filled with possibilities for how nominations might play out and who’s heads will be on the chopping block come Sunday night. He already knows who he’s nominating and who’s nominations he’ll cancel out. He’s thought long and hard about it, and even though it’s going to be difficult, he’s sure it’s the right decision. He wonders what strategies the others will employ. Big Brother requires a justification for each assigned point that relates to how that housemate’s behaviour is affecting your own time in the house. It’s kind of an absurd process because, at the end of the day, everyone is just trying to win the game, but having to put a spin on it that seems reasonable will definitely make for interesting viewing.

Probably the most infuriating part of the game is that only those who are evicted get to see who nominated who. You can go all the way to the end and not know if the people you think are your allies have actually been chucking you under the bus the entire time.

Louis finishes his shave and washes his face, turning next to taming his wayward fringe into something more presentable. He knows Harry is watching him, fleeting glances and small smiles that Louis is returning as subtly as possible. Harry looks gorgeous, is the thing, and Louis is having trouble keeping his gaze away. His hair is styled into a messy quiff, bronzer on his cheeks and exposed chest, a sheer black shirt unbuttoned dangerously low, and artfully ripped skinny jeans. His feet are bare and he’s wearing a multitude of necklaces and rings and Louis wants to fucking wreck him.

For his part, Louis is making his own effort to draw Harry in, as cruel as that may be; a scoop-necked burgundy t-shirt, soft and well-worn that hangs down showing off his chest piece, teamed with white jeans that show off his arse, cuffed at his ankles above his bare feet. 

Their preparation time is almost up and Louis is packing away his things as Harry brushes past him on his way out. They lock eyes in the mirror briefly, but it’s just long enough for Louis to clearly see Harry’s pupils are dilated, lust apparent in his intense expression. It sends a shiver down Louis’ spine and he has to steady himself on the vanity, Harry’s sweet scent permeating his senses and making him weak at the knees. This is going to be a long night.

“ _ This… is Big Brother. All housemates to the Nominations Room. _ ”

Louis snaps himself out of his thoughts and falls in behind the other housemates, coming up beside Freida as they queue to get inside.

“I forgot how nerve-wracking this bit can be,” Freida says with a nervous chuckle as they shuffle forward.

Louis nods and throws his arm around her shoulders. She’s so lovely and one of Louis’ favourite housemates; genuine, kind, and absolutely hilarious. “Yeah. This bit is tough. But you’ll do great,” he says reassuringly and guides her into the near pitch-black room.

As promised, there is an illuminated glass cubicle in the centre against the far wall, like one of those contraptions they put people in and then blow cash around while they grab as much as they can in an allotted time period. The mirrored panel at the back indicates that they will be filmed up close as they relay their nominations to Big Brother and Louis is suddenly glad he spent the extra time bothering to style his hair. On the opposite wall are ten stools lined up in two rows of five, higher at the back so everyone can see and be seen. Each housemate will presumably go into the booth with their backs to the rest of the group while they submit their noms. The mirror is an interesting complication though as anyone with decent lip-reading skills could probably work out what’s being said if the person nominating doesn’t cover their mouth. Louis makes a mental note to be careful.

They all file in and take their seats, silence descending over them as they await their instructions.

“I feel like we’re at some weird show waiting for the escapologist you come out,” Grant says, breaking the tension and earning a few chuckles from the tense group. “Reckon they’ll fill it with water and lock us inside?”

Bec slaps him in the chest. “Don’t even  _ joke _ about that! That’s like, one of my biggest fears!”

“ _ This… is Big Brother. Dylan to the nominations booth. _ ”

Louis settles back into his chair in the front row and watches as each housemate is called in turn. He tries his hand at lip-reading but after Dylan and Blake have done their noms it becomes clear that it’s a skill Louis absolutely does not possess.

It’s a slow process and Louis allows his mind to wander for a while. Harry is seated behind him and two to the right but he can still feel his presence, eyes boring a hole into the back of Louis’ head and it’s making his skin tingle. He thinks back to their night in The Sanctuary, how hot and passionate it was, trying to keep themselves under control while they got each other off in the hot tub, hours of kissing and soft caresses under the covers, whispered words and secrets pressed into each other’s skin. He wants that again so much he’s aching with it. Wants to share everything with him. Be with him completely. They haven’t talked about it of course, but he’s holding onto the hope that once this is all over, perhaps he and Harry can try this thing for real, as long as Harry doesn’t end up hating him for what he’s about to do.

“ _ Louis, it’s time to nominate. _ ” Big Brother’s voice breaks him out of his trance-like state. It’s only him and Harry left, saving those with the advantage until the end. Louis gets up and goes into the booth, closing the door behind him. It’s claustrophobic even though it’s made of glass; too many perfumes mixing in the confined space and making Louis’ head spin.

“ _ Louis, who do you nominate, for how many points, and why? _ ”

“Right, so for five points…” he starts and then covers his mouth in case any of the other housemates are better at this whole lip-reading caper than he is. “I’m going to nominate… Harry.”

Louis brain screeches time a halt now that he’s said it out loud. He knows it’s the right decision. Harry is his biggest competition and him being in the house is massively affecting Louis’ chances of winning, not least of which because he can’t fucking concentrate when he’s around. Still, it doesn’t sit comfortably with him, the guilt stabbing sharply in his chest. The last thing he wants to do is hurt Harry, and he’s fairly sure he’ll understand once he eventually sees this, but the pangs of guilt stab sharply in his chest nonetheless.

“ _ And what is the reason for your nomination? _ ”

“It’s a strategic nomination, Big Brother. Harry is competitive and smart, he’s personable and well-liked and gets along with everyone in the house, and I feel that my time in the house would be lengthened if he was evicted.” Louis lets out a long sigh and looks down at his feet, not wanting the emotion on his face to be broadcast to the millions of viewers who will tune in to the broadcast.

“ _ The decision seems to be weighing heavily on you, Louis. _ ”

So… not hiding his emotion as much as he’d hoped then. He lifts his head and squares his shoulders. “Of course, Big Brother, nominations are always difficult,” Louis says opting for a neutral response, praying that the subject will get dropped.

“ _ You and Harry have developed a close bond though, so this nomination must’ve been difficult. _ ”

Right. Not dropping it then. Louis decides to try a different tack. “We all have to make tough decisions in this game… you should know that better than anyone, Big Brother.”

“ _ Yes, I do. _ ”

There’s a long pause and Louis thinks he’s going to get grilled some more but to his relief Big Brother lets him off the hook. “ _ Your nomination has been accepted. Now, for your advantage. Who’s nominations do you want to cancel out? _ ”

Before coming into the house, Louis had done his research and the last five days has enabled him to add to that and form a picture of the other housemates and how they may choose to direct their nomination points. Some may give their points to Louis but on balance he thinks he’ll be safe. The wild card is Harry. He knows they share feelings for each other, even this early on in whatever their relationship is, but he doesn’t know how that might impact his nominations. Will he take the same approach as Louis or go another way? Louis simply can’t risk leaving it to chance.

He brings his hand up to cover his mouth once again. “I’d like to cancel out… Harry’s nominations.”

“ _ Your advantage has been played. You can return to your seat, Louis. _ ”

“Thank you, Big Brother.” Louis nods and turns around, opening the door and walking back over to his seat. He tries desperately not to look at Harry but can’t help a quick glance in his direction, catching a small smile playing Harry’s lips in the subdued lighting.

“ _ Harry, it’s time to nominate. _ ”

Louis sits down and he feels Harry’s fingers brush his across his back as he passes behind him, sending a spike of arousal through his body. He’s truly an evil bastard, hiding his touch under the cloak of darkness. 

He watches as Harry walks over to the booth and locks himself inside, letting his eyes roam over his broad back and down to his slim waist, revelling in the opportunity to drink him in without fear of being found out. He’s so gorgeous is the thing, but it’s in an effortless way, comfortable in his body and in who he is as a person that it practically seeps out of his every pore. Louis envies his easy movements, sensual and sure, like he isn’t even aware of his allure. He addictive and Louis isn’t certain if he’ll ever be able to get enough.

~~~~

The next forty-eight hours feel like they drag on forever with all the housemates on edge and wary of each other while they await the fate of eviction night. Conversations become more stilted, looks are more appraising, and eyes ask questions they can’t utter out loud.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Louis finds himself sitting in the living room with the other housemates, waiting for the hosts to appear on the screen as nervous energy fizzes and sparks around them. All the housemates have packed their belongings into their suitcases and they’re now lined up in the yard ready for whichever unlucky housemate will be leaving the house tonight.

“ _ This… is Big Brother. Thirty seconds until we’re live on the house. _ ”

“Good luck everyone,” Cara says to the group at large and she’s met with nods and agreeable mumbles, everyone feeling the weight of what’s about to transpire. Louis just wants it to be over so the week can start anew and they can all fucking relax and take a breath.

“Hi housemates!” Katrina shouts at them from the screen, Jared by her side looking stupidly happy and smug like always. Everyone pastes on their best fake smiles and waves and fist pumps in the air as the crowd roars in the background.

The hosts go through their recaps of the week, showing highlights and, as suspected, the producers are hinting at his and Harry’s blossoming romance. Damn it. They really have done a terrible job of hiding their attraction. Louis thought he was bad, and he is - the video evidence on the screen is proof of that - but Harry’s serial-killer stare is… _ a lot _ . It’s as though he gets completely mesmerized when he gazes at Louis and loses himself in the moment, having to sometimes physically shake himself to break away. It makes Louis’ skin heat up and his nerve endings ignite. He glances over at the man in real life, sitting at the other end of the couch and Louis’ mouth curls up in a grin when he sees the wash of embarrassment on his face. It’s endearing and all kinds of lovely and Louis wants to tease him for it, but that’s for another time.

Louis’ attention is drawn back to the screen as Jared continues. “Alright, now the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Time to announce the nominations and find out who will be evicted from the house. But wait… we have a surprise don’t we Katrina?”

“Yes, Jared, we do. Tonight is…” Katrina trails off and a siren sounds as the dreaded words start flashing on the screen.  _ Double Eviction _ . Fuck. The housemates gasp and groan as the crowd goes insane. Louis really hadn’t expected this tonight, but it makes sense. There are too many housemates and too few weeks so this was always going to happen, he just didn’t think they’d kick-off with a double. 

“Yes! A double eviction,” Jared says with glee and Louis would really like to rearrange those blindingly whitened teeth. “As each nomination is read, housemates will stand over there and await their fate,” he says pointing to the step near the large open doors to the yard.

Dramatic music plays in the background as the hosts ready themselves to be fed the nominations through their earpieces.

“Okay, here we go,” Katrina says and cups her ear like she’s about to lay down backing vocals. Louis rolls his eyes internally as they milk the pause to heighten the suspense and really, Louis should be used to this aspect of reality TV but it always grates on him a little. Like, just  _ get _ there already.

“Blake, two nomination points,” Jared says and Blake stands, walking over to the step silently with a confused expression on his face as a tally appears on the sidebar of the screen. Is it really possible that he thought he wouldn’t be nominated? 

Blake stands, hands behind his back and faces the rest of the housemates who remain silent in anticipation.

“Hetty, three nomination points,” Katrina says seriously and Hetty joins Blake on the step.

“Harry, five nomination points,” Jared says next and Louis tries not to reveal any emotion as he watches Harry stride over to the stairs and take his place next to Hetty. Louis cringes, the possibility that they were his five points suddenly feeling like a heavy weight on his heart.

It’s Katrina’s turn again, but this time it lands much closer to home. “Louis, five nomination points.” Fucking hell. Louis gets to his feet and goes to stand beside Harry. He’d expected to be nominated but he’s a little surprised he’s gotten the full five points from someone.

So now it’s five for him and Harry, three for Hetty, and two for Blake.

“Another five points for Louis, but these have been cancelled out using a nominations advantage.” Shit. So either Harry nominated him for five points and his advantage has cancelled out his vote, or whoever Harry picked had nominated Louis for five points. He’s not sure how to feel about either of those scenarios.

“Another five points for Harry, but these have also been cancelled out by a nominations advantage.” Buggering  _ fuck _ . Is it really possible that they nominated each other for five points and then cancelled themselves out? That can’t be it, there’s  _ just _ no way. He hears a muffled giggle and feels Harry sway beside him, nudging his shoulder and that’s all the answer he needs. Oh god. This is ridiculous. Well, at least Louis doesn’t feel so guilty anymore.

There’s still twenty-five points to be allocated and Louis holds out hope that they’ll be spread across more housemates. He’s seen it before where people who get nominated one week but don’t go home, tend to attract more votes in the following weeks, as though people feel comfortable nominating those that have attracted votes previously. His hopes start to fade as the hosts continue.

“Louis, five nomination points,” Jared says followed quickly by Katrina. “Harry, five nomination points.” Shit. Fuck.

Louis’ eyes are fixed on the tally on the TV screen. Now it’s ten points each for him and Harry, Hetty’s still on three, and Blake remains on two, but there’s only fifteen points left to go.

Louis stiffens, quickly doing the math in his head. The most likely scenario is that either he or Harry or both of them, are going home. It’s a shock and not at all what he expected but he still holds out some hope that things will turn around for him. Miracles happen, right?

Wrong.

Jared grins and Louis  _ knows _ what’s coming, he can feel it in his bones. “Louis, five nomination points.” 

Well, fuck.

Harry gasps beside him and Louis tilts his head back with a groan. That’s fifteen points. He can’t come back from this. With the double eviction in play he’s definitely going home. It’s now just a question of who will be joining him on the eviction stage.

Louis stares back at the screen and Jared looks positively gleeful. Louis is going to wipe that fucking smirk off his sleazy, fake-tanned face in about ten minutes when he is apparently going to be seeing him in person. 

Katrina nods, presumably getting her instructions on the next steps from the producers. “So, only ten more points left. How are you feeling Harry?”

Harry lets out a full-throated laugh. “Uhm… not great? But...  _ it is what it is _ , right?” Harry shrugs and turns his head to look at Louis, smiling like an idiot and Louis can’t stop the cackle that erupts from his chest.

“Well put, Harold,” Louis offers by way of a response when he calms himself enough to get words out.

It’s absurd really, this whole thing, and Louis would like very much for them to hurry-the-fuck-up so he can get out of here, away from the confines of this house, away from the cameras and the other housemates. The one thing he doesn’t want to get away from, though, is Harry. He’s really quite smitten if he’s being honest with himself, and what’s the point of being anything else. Standing here, in front of millions of viewers, he’s overcome with the desperate desire to take hold of Harry’s hand and run for the hills. Maybe he’ll get that chance.

“Alright,” Jared starts. “Next it’s… Hetty for two points and… Blake for three points.”

So they’re evened out on five points apiece, with Harry on ten and Louis on fifteen with just five more points left. The hosts ask Hetty and Blake similar questions to drag out the process, eking every morsel of drama and suspense out of the situation, but Louis has a sneaking suspicion that it's all for naught. The producers have constructed the read-out of the tally purposefully and as he stands there with Harry, he can only envisage one scenario.

“Gosh, the suspense is killing me!” Katrina squeals. “Okay… here we go everyone. Our final nomination…” she trails off as the music builds and the audience quietens. To her credit, Katrina looks genuinely shocked when the verdict is filed into her earpiece, but then she’s had plenty of practice over the various Australian seasons so it’s to be expected. “Harry… five nomination points.”

And there it is. They’re out. Both of them. The final results glare back at Louis from the tally on the screen; Hetty five, Blake five, Harry fifteen, and Louis fifteen. It’s over.

The audience goes completely insane, and the sounds become like static white noise in Louis’ head, muffled and far away. Louis glances over to the couch and finds the housemates doing their best to appear shocked and sad but it’s clear they’re struggling to hide their obvious relief that they’re not in his and Harry’s shoes. The noise in the room and on the screen comes rushing back into Louis’ ears as Big Brother’s voice bellows over the speakers.

_ “This… is Big Brother. Harry and Louis, you have been evicted. You have sixty seconds to leave the house.” _

Louis senses Harry’s gaze on him and he turns to find him smiling broadly, which… okay? He’d expected Harry to be at least a little upset, and maybe he is, but he can’t help but return his blinding smile.

“Come on, Lou, let’s get outta here,” Harry says with a wink and a nudge of his shoulder.

Louis nods and nudges him right back. “Yeah, let's blow this joint.”

The housemates jump up from the couch and come running toward them, ushering them out into the yard to collect their bags from the collection lined up neatly, ready and waiting for their departure.

They’re both enveloped in hugs from all the housemates, whispered voices saying  _ sorry _ and  _ I can’t believe it  _ as they all embrace, edging them closer to the open door where they will exit through the tunnel.

Harry and Louis break away from the group, suitcases in hand and turn at the doorway, smoke billowing out behind them for dramatic effect. 

“Bye, everyone!” Harry shouts, arm raised, waving a final farewell.

Louis matches his movements. “Good luck and have fun!”

Then they turn and walk down the tunnel into the darkness.

They’re set upon by the tech guys, changing out their mic packs and replacing them with lapel mics as they’re hurriedly shunted down the corridors, winding their way to the main studio set. Louis can hear the crowd getting louder the closer they get, and his head is spinning in anticipation. 

They reach the end and are met with a closed door and familiar face. Gabe.

“Well hello, boys. Didn’t think I’d be seeing you two quite so soon.”

“Just lucky I guess, mate,” Louis says in response. 

Gabe does a quick, final check of the equipment and nods. “Yeah, we’re ready,” he says into his mic before addressing them directly. “Leave your bags here and we’ll have them waiting for you in the limo when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Gabe,” Harry says, offering his hand for Gabe to shake. He’s such a polite boy. Louis spins his suitcase around, propping it against the wall beside Harry’s and reaches out to shake Gabe’s hand too. “Yeah, thanks, appreciate your help.”

“Cheers, guys. Alright, they’re ready for you. Just through that door and out onto the stage. We’re live, on a five-second delay, so behave yourselves... no swearing,” Gabe says with a wry smile.

The door opens and the corridor is bathed in bright lights, the roar of the crowd almost deafening. Harry leans in, close enough to brush his lips against the shell of Louis’ ear and sending a shiver down his spine. “Time to go, Lou. Our adoring public awaits.”

“Yeah, time to go. Youth before beauty,” Louis says and stands aside, waving a squawking Harry through first. He smacks him on the arse for good measure and pushes him forward into the light.


	6. Just Good Mates?

The adrenalin pumps through Harry’s veins as the limo hurtles them toward their hotel, street lights flashing inside the car like strobes, bouncing off the disco ball hanging from the roof and shading them in pinks and greens and blues. His mind is a whirling mess of mixed-up thoughts as he struggles to make sense of what’s just transpired and how on earth he’s ended up here. Evicted. In week one. But amongst the jumbled mess, the one constant train of thought that he can’t push from his mind, the one that is screaming louder than all the rest, is Louis. 

The man himself sits by his side, fists balled on his knees as he hums along to the tune playing from the speakers, gaze fixed and staring out the window. Harry wants to reach out to him, take ahold of his hand, pull him in and wrap him in his arms but he can’t, not after what Louis had said on the eviction stage.

He thought they were on the same page, that they both felt it, that the night in The Sanctuary had meant something more, something real. Now, he’s not so sure. Louis’ words ring in his head like a warning. “ _ We’re just good mates, _ ” Louis had stated when probed by the hosts, pushing for juicy details. “ _ I guess I’m just a cuddler, _ ” Louis had said by way of an explanation for the images on the big screen of them curled around one another in bed. “ _ We just make a good team, _ ” Louis had responded when presented with footage of them effortlessly navigating the tied together challenge. “ _ He’s a funny guy, sweet and kind, _ ” Louis had described Harry when faced with their mirrored fond expressions and slow-motion glances filled with all too apparent desire.

Just good friends. Was that all it had been? Is that all they are? 

Harry feels like he’s going crazy. Had he really just imagined it all? The pull, the yearning, like there was a force greater than them at work drawing them together, locking their souls and minds, joining them as one.

He needs to get out of this goddamn car, to get Louis alone, to find out if this truly is all one-sided and just some figment of Harry’s active imagination. But he’s afraid, too. What if Louis doesn’t feel the same and it really was all an act? He’s not sure how he would process that, having his hopes dashed and heart smashed into a million pieces, but the fear and trepidation is outweighed by his desperate need to know. He can’t go on  _ not _ knowing.

The limo turns and pulls into a long driveway leading up to the swanky resort. The show has booked out an entire wing for the duration of the show, rooms for each evictee, allowing the producers to keep the contestants handy for media events and promo as well as their return for the grand finale and the media storm that will ensue once the show has wrapped. Their time in the house might be over, but their obligations certainly aren’t. Harry may not have come away with the win and a million dollars, but the fifty grand payment for participating and fulfilling his contract is definitely a welcome consolation prize.

They come to a stop in front of an imposing building and a porter opens the door, a small man with a beaming smile and slicked-back hair greeting them and waving them out.

“Looks nice, Haz,” Louis says, startling Harry with the first words he’s spoken since they left the set and were bundled into the waiting car. Harry can sense a hint of nervousness in his voice and he would give anything to know what he’s feeling. It’ll be revealed soon enough he guesses, but that moment can’t come soon enough for Harry’s frayed nerves.

“Mmmm… not too shabby,” Harry replies quickly, trying to keep his tone light and not hint at the turmoil going on inside his brain.

Louis gets out first and Harry doesn’t stop himself from letting his eyes linger on his arse, firm and round and sinful in his tight white jeans. He really shouldn’t, but he’s tired of keeping himself in check, restraining his urges and denying what he wants so desperately when it’s right in front of him. After a week of being in close proximity to Louis and already knowing what it feels like to kiss him, hold him, and caress his golden skin has rendered Harry completely unable to resist. 

They’re escorted to the front desk, suitcases loaded onto a luggage trolley to the side. A tall brunette woman, impeccably dressed in a dark grey suit emblazoned with the hotel branding emerges from an office to the rear.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she says brightly. “I’m Catherine and I’m the liaison for the show. I’ll be your primary contact during your stay here at The Cove Resort.”

“Hi Catherine, I’m Harry,” he says, giving her a winning smile and extending his hand over the desk. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“I’m Louis, nice to meet you, too,” Louis says and shakes her hand.

“Good to meet you both. Your suitcases, and the bags with your personal items which we’ve been keeping under lock and key here, will be in your rooms when you get there.” Harry and Louis both nod as their extra bags are loaded on the trolley and it’s whisked away. 

Catherine slides over two folders, flipping one of them open one of them and using her pen to direct their attention to the front cover sheet with a list of dates and times. “These are your media packs. Inside is all the information you’ll need for the next five weeks here with us. There are details of your appearances and interviews, where you’ll be going and when. All food and drinks, as well as entertainment and activities at the resort, are billed back to your rooms so please ensure you keep your key cards with you at all times.”

“Nice. This looks amazing,” Harry says, in awe of how well organized it all is, a far cry from the chaos that lay waiting for him in the post-show whirlwind after his previous season.

“Everything has been meticulously planned, I can assure you. But if you have any questions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to contact the concierge or reception, or simply approach any of our friendly staff members around the resort. We’re here to ensure your stay is as enjoyable as possible.”

“We might not have won a million dollars but this sure cushions the blow. Five weeks in paradise sounds pretty good to me,” Louis says and hip-checks Harry. It’s the first physical contact since they left the set and it sends a bolt of electricity through Harry’s body.

“You’re going to love it here,” Catherine says with a broad smile as she reaches behind the desk, bringing out a pamphlet and unfolding it as they both lean in to see more clearly. “It’s a big resort, with multiple pools and restaurants. Your rooms are in this wing over here,” she continues, pointing to a building at the far end of the resort on the map. “Access to our private beach is through here, and here, and the day spa is over here. Our information channel has details about scheduled activities and special events, as well as nightly entertainment. At The Cove we provide a fully inclusive experience for our guests, so there’s no need to set foot outside unless you want to. Your comfort and enjoyment are our primary focus, always.”

Harry looks up and smiles. “This all seems wonderful, Catherine, thanks so much.”

She closes the folder and lays their key cards on top, pushing them across the desk for them to take. “You’re all set! If you just go through those doors and follow the map, you’ll be relaxing in your rooms in no time,” she says motioning toward a large set of glass doors leading out into a lush garden and a pathway lined with spotlit trees.

“Thanks, Catherine,” Louis says and heads off, Harry waving goodbye and trailing behind.

They walk in silence, taking in the ambience of their surrounds as a chorus of insects create a blanket of summer sounds in the humid evening. Louis leads them through a maze of twists and turns, concentrating on the map and soon they’re at their building. Louis holds the door open and lets Harry go through first, ever the gentlemen. 

Harry can feel the sweat seeping into his shirt on his lower back, a combination of the heat and his nervous energy. They round the corner into a hallway and pass a porter wheeling an empty luggage trolley, presumably having come from dropping off their bags. The man smiles and wishes them a good evening.

Harry feels like his skin is crawling, anticipation building as he clutches his folder to his chest. He honestly doesn’t know what to expect when they reach their rooms. Will Louis say anything? Will Harry be brave enough to broach the subject?

Louis’ footsteps slow as he reaches the end of the corridor, a single door with two room numbers on the outside. He swipes his key card and Harry stands behind him, blood rushing in his ears, head spinning. Louis opens the door and inside is a vestibule with a wall of mirrors on one side, a hall table on the other, and two separate doors leading to their rooms at the end. This is it. Harry sets his folder down on the table and Louis does the same, the air prickling with static around them. They’re standing so close but the distance between them might as well be miles for how far it feels.

Harry takes a deep breath and musters every ounce of courage he can. “So…” he starts, voice cracking. “Did you mean it?”

Louis turns to look at him, arms hanging loosely at his sides and wearing a bemused expression. “Mean what?”

Harry steels himself. He can do this. He  _ has _ to do this. “That we’re… just good friends?”

Louis looks at him, confusion written all over his face. “What?”

Harry tries again, more confidently. “On the eviction stage… you said we’re just good friends. Is that… is that what we are?”

“I didn’t want…” Louis’ eyes are wide, eyebrows raised. “Of  _ course _ we’re friends, but I didn’t want-“

“Is that  _ all _ we are?” Harry asks, cutting him off.

Louis furrows his brows and squares his shoulders. “Is that all you think we are? Is that all you want us to be?”

Harry can’t take this. The tension is palpable, time stretching out and bending around them as though the earth has ceased to rotate, suspending them in a sea of uncertainty. He has to go all-in. He has to know. Can’t let another moment pass in this confusing limbo.

Harry shakes his head. “No. I don’t. Is that all you want us to be?”

Louis lets out a breath and blinks slowly, the corner of his mouth curling up into a small grin. “Fuck no.”

Harry lets a beat pass, allowing Louis’ response to sink in, the strain in his muscles easing and he chuckles, throwing his head back. “Oh, thank  _ god _ .” He finally has the answer he needs and relief washes over him, the elation immediately building inside his chest, desperate to burst out.

“So…” Louis starts and Harry lowers his head to look back at him, catching his quirked brow. “My room or yours?”

Harry grins. “Mine has lube and condoms.”

A devilish smile breaks out on Louis’ face and Harry wants to kiss him so badly if he doesn’t get to in the next ten seconds he’ll likely combust.

“Then what the fuck are we still doing standing here, Harold?”

That’s all the invitation Harry needs and he launches himself at Louis, slamming into him and shoving him back towards his door. It’s all teeth and tongue and open mouths and hot breaths and hands roaming everywhere, grappling for purchase. Harry reaches down, lifts Louis under his bum, and Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s hips as though they’ve done this a million times before. They hit the door with a thud and Harry lets the rebound give him an opportunity to swipe his card and wrench the handle down, all the while holding Louis up with one hand. He wedges his foot in the doorway and spins them, shouldering the door fully open and walking backwards inside, pushing Louis into the wall and dropping his key card onto a side table.

Louis breaks away from this kiss, panting heavily and locks eyes with Harry. “Fuck… want you so much, Haz,” he says as he pulls his shirt off over his head, hair mussed, chest pink and blotchy. He’s so fucking gorgeous and Harry is going to absolutely wreck him, take him apart and put him back together again, piece by piece.

Harry drinks him in for a second and growls before diving in one more, tongue first, their noses bumping harshly in their eagerness to devour each other. Louis manages to get his hands between them and reefs Harry’s shirt out of his pants; nimble fingers undoing the buttons at lightning speed. Harry pushes him firmly into the wall with his hips, propping Louis up as he untangles his arms from his shirt and Louis tears it the rest of the way off him and casts it aside.

Harry grabs Louis’ wrists and pins them to the wall as Louis tightens the grip with his legs to hold himself up. Harry grinds his hips forward, causing delicious friction as their cocks rub together, making them both groan before he latches onto the pulse point in Louis’ neck and sucks hard, sure to leave a mark.

“ _ Harry… _ ” Louis whines, straining against Harry’s hold and bucking up with his pelvis, seeking more attention on his already rock-hard cock, still trapped in his jeans. Harry bites Louis’ collarbone and shoves his hips forward again, rotating them mercilessly and eliciting a wanton moan from Louis’ mouth.

“Yeah, baby. You like that don’t you?” Harry says, and it’s not a question. He knows that Louis is desperate for it, and is relishing being manhandled, Harry can feel it in every move he makes, futile attempts at thrusting his hips, strangled cries and whimpers filling the space around them.

“ _ God _ . Bed. Now!” Louis shouts, writhing in Harry’s hold and Harry can’t deny him anything, not when he’s right here, in his arms, ready for the taking. 

He releases Louis’ wrists and slides his hands back under his arse, digging his fingers into the meaty flesh still constrained by Louis’ jeans, and that needs to change, immediately. He turns them around as Louis bites down on Harry’s ear lobe, hot breath tingling against his skin, and sharp nails scratching welts into his back.

Harry strides through the room and over to the bed, throwing Louis down onto it unceremoniously. He bounces a few times and Harry watches with hungry eyes while he kicks off his shoes and undoes his belt, pulling it out of the loops and dropping it to the floor. Louis’ chest is heaving, sweat glistening between his pecs and Harry wants to lick him all over.

“Get your pants off,” he instructs lowly, almost at a growl.

Louis’ mouth curls up into a grin. “Bossy.” He says it with a hint of a giggle but Harry suspects it's more nervous excitement than actual amusement.

Harry stalks over to where the porter has left his bags, undoing his button and flies as he goes. He snatches up the bag containing his personal items that had been stowed at the hotel and thumps it down onto the luggage rack. He struggles with the zip for a moment, ready to tear it open if needs be before it finally gives and he rifles around inside until he finds the lube and condoms, sending up a silent prayer for being so well prepared.

“Hurry up!” Louis yells at him from the bed as one of Louis’ shoes whizzes past Harry’s head and ricochets off the wall, hitting the floor with a thud.

Harry spins around ready to land a witty retort but the sight he’s met with renders him speechless. Louis is gloriously naked, leaning back up on the headboard with one foot planted on the bed, stroking his dick lazily and eyeing Harry with the most lustful expression he’s ever seen.

Harry’s feet move without his conscious request and he finds himself at the end of the bed, eyes fixed on Louis, all laid out, beckoning him closer, offering himself up to Harry for the taking. It’s a heady feeling knowing Louis wants him, wants this as much as he does, and that they’re definitely more than just friends.

He chucks the lube and condoms up next to Louis and kicks off his shoes, peeling his jeans off his long legs, and discarding them along with his socks, never once taking his eyes off Louis, he’s not sure he could even if he tried. He lets himself just look for a moment, eyes scanning over Louis’ body, from his delicate ankles, to his toned legs, thick cock, taut stomach, tattooed arms, lingering on the smattering of hair on his chest that Harry wants to run his fingers through, and all the up to his gorgeous face, bottom lip whiting-out where he’s biting into it. He’s a fucking vision and Harry gets to have him, all of him, right now.

“You just gonna stand there staring all night?” Louis asks, quirking a brow, challenging Harry with his mischievous grin.

Harry cocks his hip, letting his hand wander down to his hard cook and wrapping his fingers around the shaft. “Just deciding what I’m gonna do to you.”

Louis smirks as he continues to stroke his cock, red and angry, leaking from the slit, and sliding easily in his hand as he uses his precome to smooth the glide. “Fucking me sounds like a solid plan. Today, if possible.”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, you know that?” Harry muses as he lets go of his cock and places one knee on the bed. “Must’ve been torture for you to keep quiet in the hot tub.”

“What can I say? I’m adaptable,” Louis says with a shrug.

“Adaptable, yeah?” Harry reaches forward and grabs onto Louis’ ankles, pulling him down the bed and flipping him onto his stomach with one swift motion, startling a squawk from the wriggling man beneath him.

Louis raises up on his elbows and looks over his shoulder, clearly going for coquettish with his fringe hanging in front of his eyes and lips parted on a gasp. “You’re like a fucking caveman.”

Harry shoves Louis’ legs apart, settling between them on his heels and massaging his way up Louis’ calves, the backs of his thighs, and finally to his arse, kneading the flesh with his hands. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

“Show me then.” Louis challenges, swivelling his hips and rubbing his cock into the covers.

And that… that simply won’t do. Harry grins and slaps his arse playfully with both hands, watching as it jiggles enticingly, and Louis hangs his head down on his forearms, letting out a long groan and stilling his movements.

Interesting, Harry muses. “Yeah?”

Louis doesn’t look back up, just mumbles something unintelligible into his arms, nodding slowly.

Harry files the information away for another time and sits up, leaning down over Louis’ back, and resting his hands on either side of Louis’ ribs. He lowers his face and whispers into Louis’ ear. “Good to know,” he murmurs, trying to quell the arousal coursing through his veins. “But tonight... I think I’m just gonna fuck you.”

Louis moans and his entire body shudders as he bucks his hips back up, brushing his arse against Harry’s cock.

Even though it’s only been a week in the making, the urgent need they have for each other feels like it’s been building to a peak since the first moment they met. Harry’s mind is a whirling torrent of desire filled with all the things he wants  _ with _ Louis, to  _ do _ to Louis, but right now he has to focus on what they both want the most, and that’s Harry buried deep inside. 

Harry trails his lips down under Louis’ ear, sucking a mark into the sensitive skin as he reaches over blindly for the lube. He shifts back, working his way down Louis’ spine and nipping and sucking marks as he goes. Louis rolls his hips into the bed, letting out little needy whimpers, sweat glistening on his back.

Harry sits back on his heels, flipping the cap on the lube and squirting out a healthy amount onto his fingers. He drops it on the bed and runs his dry hand down Louis’ side making him flinch and grumble, turning his head to glare at Harry from under his fringe. “Will you just get  _ on _ with it already.”

Harry smirks and stills his hand. “You’re not gonna make me rush this. I’m going to savour every… single… moment... and nothing you do is going to change that.”

Louis glares at him. “Yeah? You reckon?”

Harry nods defiantly and waits to see what Louis’ response will be. A beat passes, and then another, both men staring each other down and then Louis grins, draws his knees up under him and lifts off the bed, sticking his arse in the air, presenting himself to Harry. 

Harry gulps and fixes his gaze on Louis’ puckered hole right in front of him, framed by Louis’ gloriously round cheeks, just begging to be slammed into. “Yeah, alright. You win,” he mutters.

“Thought as much,” Louis murmurs with a self-satisfied undercurrent, as he wiggles his arse enticingly, dropping his face down into the covers.

Harry takes a firm hold of Louis’ hip with his dry hand, halting his movements. “So full of yourself,” he chides goodnaturedly.

“I’d rather be full of you…” Louis says, voice muffled by the duvet.

“Well,  _ that… _ can definitely be arranged,” Harry says and swipes his lubed-up fingers across Louis’ rim, down his taint to his balls, before running his knuckles back up again. Louis shivers under his touch and Harry wants to do it again and again until he’s a writhing mess, but even more than that he wants to speed things along, the need to be inside Louis growing ever-stronger by the minute.

He focuses his fingers on Louis’ rim, testing the give to see how relaxed and ready he is for him. It’s mesmerizing, watching the muscle clench and release at Harry’s urging as Louis makes tiny little figure-eights with his pelvis.

Harry drags his fingers down and dips the tips of two of them into Louis’ hole, stretching it out and eliciting a lovely moan from the man beneath him. He’s tight, but it won’t take much to loosen him up. He works his fingers in and out, enjoying the slick glide and warmth of Louis’ walls.

Louis turns his head, cheek pressed into the matters. “Another,” he huffs out impatiently.

“So eager,” Harry teases and makes no attempt to speed up the process.

Louis has clearly had enough though and he reaches around, grabbing Harry’s wrist and shoving his fingers in deeper. “So fucking  _ slow _ . You’re killing me here, Styles.”

Harry chuckles and obligingly adds a third finger, letting Louis set the pace and use him as he wishes. It’s an odd sensation but Harry is happy to go with it. Louis grunts and groans, twisting his torso and trying to get the right angle but he can’t because Harry is purposefully avoiding allowing Louis to maneuver his fingers to exactly where he wants them. It’s a little mean and Harry’s fairly sure Louis is going to whack him any minute so he reaches over with his free hand and grabs the condom, tearing the wrapper with his teeth and spitting out the corner onto the bed. He blows into the end so the tip protrudes and rolls it over his cock one-handed, picking up the lube and flipping the cap, drizzling the liquid along his shaft. He spills some onto the covers as Louis jostles him about, otherwise occupied with opening himself up on Harry’s fingers, but he gets the job done and spreads the lube around, squirting a bit more into Louis’ hole for good measure.

Louis releases Harry’s wrist and flops his arm down onto the bed, chest heaving, little panted breaths filling the room.

Harry already knows the answer to the question, but he asks anyway, just to rile him up even further. “You ready, Lou?” Louis turns his head and shoots daggers at him with his eyes, hair all mussed and stuck to his forehead with sweat. Harry barks out a laugh and he knows he’ll pay for it later but really, he just can’t help himself. “Alright, alright.” Harry raises up on his knees and shuffles forward, tapping Louis’ hip. “Up. Hands and knees.”

Louis moves so fast Harry’s briefly worried he’ll tip them both off the bed with his enthusiasm. He looks back over his shoulder at Harry, smirk painted on his pretty features. “Come on then, have at it. You’ve got some seriously high expectations to live up to... fantasy Harry is a demon in the sack.”

Harry grins and lines himself up, tip nudging at Louis’ hole. “Yeah? Fantasy Harry, eh? Tell me more about this super-human sex-machine.”

Louis arches his back seductively as Harry pushes forward and the head of his cock pops inside, both of them sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation.

“He’s… he’s uhm… shit,” Louis stutters out with a nervous giggle, obviously distracted by the feel of Harry breaching his rim. “He’s hung, of course.” Louis continues, voice strained as Harry slides in further, carefully, slowly, wrapping his hand around Louis’ hips to steady them. “Nrrrghhh, uhm… good stam-stamina. Yeah. Really g-good.”

“Yeah? What else?” Harry asks, wanting Louis to keep talking through it, relishing in hearing how affected he is.

Louis huffs out a laugh as Harry goes deeper, stretching him around his cock, nearly fully inside now. It feels so amazing, hot and tight and he wants to let loose, but knows he can’t, not yet. “He’s strong. Can… uhm… hold me up against a wall,” Louis says, arms trembling with the effort of maintaining his position, sweat pooling at the base of his spine. “Manhandles me… like I weigh n-nothing.”

“Mhmmm… like that do you?”

“Yeah….” Louis says on a long exhale before sucking in a ragged breath as Harry finally bottoms out completely. “ _ Fuck _ . Feels so good, Haz.”

Harry stops moving, letting Louis adjust properly and awaiting his okay to proceed. He watches intently as Louis’ rib cage expands and contracts, stuttering on each inhale until his breathing calms, hands white-knuckling as he grips the covers tightly, before flattening, relaxing, fingers splaying out.

“Y’alright, Lou?” Harry asks, voice as even as he can manage while every primal instinct is fighting with him to let go, to pull out, and slam back inside. The pressure is almost unbearable, he needs friction to relieve the pent-up tension, toes about to cramp, jaw clenched.

Louis sways forward and then back again, just a tiny movement, imperceptible almost, only noticeable as it’s magnified by the glorious drag on Harry’s cock.

Harry holds his breath, staring at the place where they’re joined, his lubed up and sheathed cock glistening in the light as it is revealed and then sucked back in.

Louis keeps his motions at an even pace, increasing the length of the draws and adding a small rotation of his pelvis each time Harry is fully inside.

Louis pauses when Harry’s cock is almost all the way out, turns his head and looks straight at him before grinning, and slamming backwards, impaling himself on Harry’s rock-hard length.

Harry lets out the lung-full of air he’d been holding with a long groan and digs his fingers into the meaty flesh of Louis’ hips, taking control and starting to thrust in and out with more force.

“Fuck, yeah, Haz. That’s it,” Louis moans, head drooping down but otherwise keeping himself still, letting Harry set the pace now, skin slapping on skin, grunts of pleasure and needy whines sounding around the room.

Harry reaches forward with one hand and takes hold of Louis’ shoulder, forcing him to arch his back even further as Harry concertinas his body slightly, moulding him as he wishes. 

“So good, Lou. So perfect. Fuck.”

“Hair. My hair, Haz.”

Harry doesn’t hesitate in grabbing a handful of hair from the back of Louis’ head, pulling tightly and using the hold for leverage, pounding into him as Louis cries out in ecstasy. “Mmmm… you- you like that?”

“Fuck, yeah! Come on, give it to me,” Louis manages to pant out. “Fuck me. Wanna feel it for days.”

Harry is more than willing to oblige, upping his speed and forcefulness, really going for it now. He’s getting close, the pull in his gut becoming more apparent with every thrust. He tugs harder on Louis’ hair, causing his neck to flex and his arse to push up higher, changing the angle of where Harry is buried in him. It must be just right because Louis lets out a long whine high in his throat.

“Yeah. That’s it, Lou, let go, baby.” 

“More!  _ Harder… _ right there!”

Harry lifts one leg and plants his foot on the bed, doubling his efforts as he pushes them both to their limits. He takes his hand away from Louis’ hip and reaches under his belly taking hold of Louis’ cock and stripping it harshly.

“Fuck, Lou. So good. Nearly there.”

“Same. Come on, H-Haz,” Louis stammers as he slaps one hand down onto the bed, body tensing. Harry releases his hair and Louis turns his head, eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth hanging agape on a silent scream. Harry knows the moment Louis comes, sees it in his eyes, feels his hole clench around him tightly, wet spurts shooting out of his cock and all over Harry’s hand.

Harry is certain this image will be burned in his brain for all eternity, and it’s all it takes for him to follow Louis over the edge into the abyss, come pulsing out of him on waves of pleasure. He pumps his hips, slowing the movements and drawing out the sensations for as long as possible while Louis stares at him, shock and awe written all over his face. Harry suspects he looks much the same, unable to hide the sheer wonder of what has just transpired between them.

As Harry slows to a stop, a wide smile blossoms on his face. He’s so fucking happy. He can’t contain it any longer and a small laugh barrels up from his chest, taking him by surprise. Louis’ eyebrows disappear up under this sweaty fringe and then he’s joining Harry, giggles bubbling out of his mouth as he slumps forward, face-planting onto the bed. Harry eases out of Louis and pulls off the condom, chucking it into the small bin under the bedside table. He flops down onto the bed beside Louis and turns his head to face him. Louis snuffles around in the covers still giggling and then looks over at Harry. His eyes are glassy and his face is beet-red and he’s the most gorgeous thing Harry has ever seen.

Harry extends his arm and motions for Louis to come and lay down. “So… how did I compare to fantasy-Harry?” 

“Who?” Louis queries absentmindedly as he shifts and snuggles into Harry’s side.

“You know, the demon in the sack, the super-human sex-machine. How I’d do?”

Louis looks up at him, and Harry can’t resist craning his neck to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Louis smiles and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Why would I need some fantasy? I’ve got the real deal right here and you’re a thousand times better than anything I could ever conjure up in my head.”

Harry preens at Louis’ words, pulling him in tighter as Louis slots his leg between Harry’s and brings his arm across his waist. “You’re better than anything I could’ve imagined too. You’re perfect.” Harry kisses the top of Louis’ head. “I know we lost the game…”

“...and a million dollars,” Louis adds helpfully with a small chuckle.

“Yes. Alright.  _ And _ a million dollars. But I truly feel like I’ve won at life.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Guilty as charged,” Harry says and raises his free hand placatingly. Louis takes hold of it and threads their fingers together, bringing them back down to rest on Harry’s chest.

Louis rubs his thumbs over the backs of Harry’s knuckles. “I feel like I’ve won at life, too.”

“Sap,” Harry chides and places another kiss on the top of Louis’ head just because he can.

“Guilty as charged,” Louis says and kisses Harry’s chest, snuggling down and making himself comfortable like he’s always belonged there, like they fit together in every way possible, as though this was always meant to be how they ended up and the universe was just waiting patiently for the right time to let them find each other.

Harry may not know what the future holds, may not even know what tomorrow will bring, but he’s sure of one thing above all else, that future will be with Louis, right by his side, forever.


	7. Epilogue

_ 6 months later… _

Louis turns the car onto the narrow country road, the warmth of the summer breeze blowing his haphazardly-styled fringe and whipping it against his forehead. His hair had been perfectly coiffed until Harry has deemed that twenty minutes was more than enough time for quick, mutual blow jobs before they set off for the party. His boyfriend is insatiable. Louis really does love him quite a lot.

He lets his mind wander back to the first heady weeks of their relationship, free from the confines and prying eyes of the Big Brother house, holed up at The Cove and revelling in the newness of everything they were experiencing together. Their days had been spent lounging by the pools, enjoying the beach, treatments at the spa, and so much sex Louis thought for sure they’d tire of each other. Of course, they hadn’t. Each day had brought an ever-expanding need to know everything about the other, to let themselves drown in their deepening feelings, barely coming up for air. It was all-consuming and Louis had worried that their return to the real world would extinguish the heat of passion they felt, but if anything, it had only fueled the fire.

Harry shifts beside him, legs pretzeled under him as he holds Louis’ hand over the console and hums along to the music. It’s been six months since their eviction, five since the first  _ I love you’s  _ had fallen from their lips, four since they returned to the UK, and three since they moved in together. Some might say it’s been a whirlwind romance, but it never felt like that to him; never forced or rushed, just like a natural progression to where they find themselves now. Domestic bliss is not something he’d envisioned for his near future. He’d hoped, naturally, that one day he’d find someone to settle down with, but that had always seemed like a far-away dream that you achieved when you were older, grown-up, once you had all your shit sorted out. It just hadn’t occurred to him that the path to that future was one that didn’t have to be travelled alone.

“Next left, I think,” Harry says bringing Louis back to the present and away from his thoughts.

“Mmmm… yeah. Think you’re right.”

“Should we have stopped off and gotten Frieda some flowers or something?”

Louis shakes his head fondly and squeezes Harry’s hand reassuringly. “Nah, we’ve brought more than enough. You’ve outdone yourself, babe.” And he has. Harry had spent the previous evening cooking up a storm in their kitchen and had been awake since dawn baking up a storm. Yeah.  _ Their _ kitchen. Their little stone cottage was the find of the century as far as Louis is concerned. Tucked away in a village not far from Louis’ work and an easy thirty-minute commute to Harry’s uni campus. The money they both earned from Big Brother had allowed them to easily secure a mortgage and make an offer on it, which had been accepted without negotiation. It needs some work, and it will take some time to get things the way they want them, but that’s half the fun; planning and seeing their vision come to fruition. 

Louis takes the turn and the gravel on the long driveway crunches beneath the tyres. Hedging flanks them on one side with open pasture on the other as they make their way up to the beautiful country residence. It’s impressive, but not too ostentatious, a perfect match for its owners; two-storeys of red brick with a plastered portico at the front, and mirrored bay windows to either side.

He pulls into a spot at the end of a row of other cars, all here for the house-warming, and shuts off the engine. Harry stretches out his long legs, clad only in jean-shorts today because he truly likes to make Louis suffer, and slips his feet into his flip-flops. “You ready?”

Louis tilts his head from side to side and his neck cracks loudly in the quiet car. “Yup! Let’s go,” he says and leans over for a chaste kiss before releasing Harry’s hand. 

They pile out and Louis pops the boot, gathering up their picnic basket and the cool box with all the food Harry had lovingly prepared. Harry grabs their backpack and the housewarming gift, a gorgeous antique tea set Harry had found while he was looking for a hall table to add to the eclectic mix of furniture in their cottage. The tea set is perfect and suits Freida down to the ground; Grant, maybe not so much, but he’s so laid back he’ll be sure to love it if Freida does. Their relationship hadn’t come as a huge surprise to Louis and Harry after they’d been front row to see the beginnings of their friendship blossom in the Big Brother house, but it warmed their hearts to see them come together nonetheless. Louis considers Frieda to be an angel on this earth who deserves the world, and Grant simply adores her. Grant had been evicted a few weeks after Harry and Louis, but Freida, brilliant, selfless, lovely Frieda had made it all the way to the end and had walked away with the million-dollar prize. Harry and Louis couldn’t have been happier that the windfall had gone to someone so deserving. Grant’s subsequent decision to relocate to the UK had been the most sensible option so Freida could remain close to her family and his nomadic lifestyle allowed him the freedom to make the move without too much hassle. Still, it was a sacrifice, but each time Louis sees them together it’s clear it was one worth making.

Harry shuts the boot and they head up to the open front door, the sounds of chatter and music spilling out and drawing them inside. The house is a hive of activity, children scampering across the hallway running from room to room in front of them; it’s chaotic and welcoming and exactly how Louis had imagined their home would be.

They make their way through to the kitchen where they find Frieda dolling out drinks and cookies to an eager crowd of hyped-up kids in their swimmers, dripping water all over the wooden floors.

“Alright, away with you all! Go play in the garden,” Frieda says, sending the crowd on their way with a wave of her hands, happy giggles left in their wake. She turns and spies Harry and Louis in the doorway, a big, beaming smile spreading across her face. “Boys! Ahhhh my boys are here!”

Louis sets the picnic basket and cool box on the ground and readies himself just in time for an armful of Freida. She pulls him in with one arm and wafts the other one around in Harry’s general direction until he joins the group hug. “Hey Freida, how are you, love?” Louis asks fondly, breathing in her flowery scent, only just discernible over the heavy aroma of cookie dough.

“Missed you too,” Harry says as she releases them. She takes ahold of Harry’s cheeks and pulls him down to her level, smacking a big kiss on his lips. 

“Oi!” Louis shrieks. “Where’s mine?” Frieda cackles and drags him in for his own wet kiss. Louis laughs and dramatically wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You two,” she says, “are a sight for sore eyes. How are you both? How’s that lovely little cottage of yours getting along?”

“Good. Really good. Coming together nicely,” Louis provides as she bustles them into the kitchen and Harry starts unloading the food. “The new kitchen went in a couple of weeks ago so Harry here made the most of it and cooked up quite the feast for today.”

Frieda eyes the spread Harry is laying out on the benchtop, salads and pies and pastries galore. “Harry! My goodness, darling. You’re a lifesaver.”

Harry blushes furiously under the attention and shrugs his shoulder. “S’not much. Just a few things.”

“Don’t be modest. This is wonderful,” she says and rounds the bench, tucking herself in under his arm.

Louis smiles warmly and unpacks the sauces and dips. “This place is amazing, Freeds. You all settled in?”

“Mhmmm… it’s great. We’re having a blast here. Nice and close to the family, but not  _ too _ close, if you know what I mean.” She winks exaggeratedly and chuckles as Louis notices Grant coming in through the bi-fold doors from the garden carrying a tray of sausages fresh from the barbecue. He’s wearing board shorts and an apron that says  _ Kiss The Cook _ in obnoxious sparkly pink lettering on a black background. 

“Harry! Louis! Thank god you’re here,” he drawls out in his familiar Aussie accent. “Need some crowd control in the pool. The gremlins are running riot,” he says as he sets down the tray and wipes his hands off on the apron, extending one to shake with them both.

“Ready for duty, Captain!” Harry shouts with a salute and spins out from under Freida’s arm, taking off toward the garden.

Louis smiles as he watches Harry leap into the fray, corralling the children and letting them pull him to the ground in a massive pile of limbs.

“Beer?” Grant draws Louis’ attention, motioning toward the fridge.

“Love one, thanks,” Louis says as he plonks himself on one of the barstools at the bench.

Grant sets two beers down and opens them up, sliding one across to Louis. “Good drive?”

“Yeah, not bad, easy couple of hours,” he says and takes a long swig. “Nice to get away for the weekend.”

Freida passes Grant a tray of uncooked sausages and plants a kiss on his cheek for good measure. “Looks like I have work to do. Catch you later, mate!”

Grant heads back out to the garden as Freida busies herself with unwrapping the cling film on the trays and opening up the dishes they’ve brought. “You two still planning on staying at the little bed and breakfast down the road?”

“Yup!” Louis knows what’s coming next, but there’s no way he’s diverting from his carefully laid plans for their evening.

“You know I’m still mad at you for not staying here. We’ve got plenty of room,” Freida says, giving him a stern look.

“I know and I’m sorry, but tonight’s kind of... special.”

“Oh?”

Louis nods and sets down his beer. “It’s our six month anniversary.”

“Ahhhhhh I see. Got something nice planned? Only if it’s fit for sharing, of course,” she says with a wink.

He hasn’t told anyone of his plans but he’s been itching to see Freida so he can share it with someone. “Uhmmmm… actually…”

Freida eyes him curiously, scanning his face for a hint at what he’s about to say. Louis sees the moment realisation dawns and she drops the tray of scones to the benchtop with a clatter, one hand coming up to her chest, mouth hanging agape. “ _ Ohmygod _ ,” she whispers. “Are you? I mean… oh my  _ god _ !”

Louis whips his head around to make sure no one else is listening and thankfully finds the room empty, smiling as he looks back at her. “ _ Shhhhh… _ and yes. Tonight’s the night.”

Freida snaps herself out of her stupor and rushes around the island to Louis’ side, spinning his stool to face her and laying her hands on his shoulders. “Are you serious?” She exclaims, voice hushed and eyes wide.

“Yeah, yeah.” Louis nods, and it feels like his face is going to split in two from the smile he can’t contain. “Tonight. Gonna pop the question. Got a whole speech prepared and everything.”

“Oh  _ Louis _ , I’m so happy for you, love.” The tears are welling up in her eyes and Louis can’t help but do the same.

She pulls him into a warm hug and Louis sniffles, wiping a wayward tear from his cheek on her shirt. He knew she’d be supportive and happy for them but it still feels good to have it confirmed and it’s even nicer to know that she doesn’t think he’s crazy to be doing it so soon. 

They break apart and Freida takes his hands. “Does he have any idea at all?”

“Nope. None,” Louis says smugly. It’d been easy enough to steal one of Harry’s rings for sizing, he’s got a whole jewellery box full after all, but selecting the perfect ring was harder than he could ever have imagined. In the end, he’d opted to have one made; a platinum band, inlaid with baguette diamonds surrounding a two-carat princess-cut emerald. It’s stunning, and expensive as fuck, but his man deserves nothing but the best. The inscription on the underside of the band reads  _ My One And Only _ and Louis starts to tear up again just thinking about it.

“He’s a lucky man.”

“I think I’m the lucky one, actually.”

“Well, I think you both are,” she says, kindness in her eyes. “Two peas in a pod from the first moment you laid eyes on each other. Destined for a life of fulfilment and happiness, of family, of love. You’re so perfect for each other, in every way. I knew it from day one and I think you both did too. All those little furtive glances, you thought you were being so clever, trying to keep it hidden, but it was crystal clear that you were made for each other.”

Louis chuckles. “You’ve got quite a way with words, you know? Maybe you should officiate the ceremony.”

Frieda sucks in a sharp breath. “Wait. What? Could I? Oh my god! I would  _ love _ to do that,” she says excitedly. “A friend of my mine does it and I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to arrange and it would be so amazing and-“

“Whoa there, you’ll bust something, love. He’s gotta say yes first.”

“Ha! As if he’d ever turn you down. You two are soulmates.”

“You think so?”

“I  _ know  _ so. I’m very wise, after all,” she says with a wry smile. “But think about it, yeah? I’d love to marry the two of you, to be part of your big day like that.”

“Yeah. Yeah, alright. I’ll see what Haz says.”

“So it’s practically a done deal then.” She smiles cheekily with a raise of her eyebrows. “That boy could never say no to me. Not if he knows what’s good for him anyway.”

“Lou! Come save me from the gremlins!” Louis hears Harry shout from the garden, squeals of delight from the children filtering inside.

Freida gives Louis’ shoulders a squeeze, stepping away and motioning toward the doors with a nod of her head. “Go on. Go save that man if yours.”

“Thanks. Reckon I will,” Louis says as he slides off the stool. He hesitates for a moment and then pulls her in for another tight hug. “You’re a good egg, Freeds.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” she whispers into his ear.

~~~~

Later that night, as Louis and Harry are wrapped in each other’s arms, sated and blissed out, Harry doesn’t see it coming when Louis reaches over to the small bedside table and takes out the velvet ring box from the drawer. 

Louis delivers his prepared speech flawlessly and Harry lets his tears fall openly as he answers Louis’ question with a resounding  _ yes _ . They lay beside each other, whispering hopes for their future together, of their wedding, of the family they want to start, of their life, joined as one, forever, as Louis sends a silent prayer to the gods of Big Brother for bringing this wonderful man into his life. His everything, his one and only, his Harry.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [ jacaranda-bloom ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/) and if you’d like to reblog my [ Tumblr fic post ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/post/189389120123/playing-to-win-by-jacaranda-bloom-written-for-the) that would be lovely!
> 
> If you enjoyed this work you can subscribe [ here ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacaranda_bloom/) to be notified when new works are posted!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are very welcome. xx


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